The Strigoi's Daughter
by Medusa Sparrow-Winchester
Summary: When Vaun was human, he had a daughter, Freya. This is her story. I didn't like that they killed Vaun off, especially when Quinlan said that he trained Vaun, so Vaun's not dead in this fic, and Quinlan has also known Lar for centuries. All the main characters will be in this, and a few OC strigoi, as well as the three Old World Ancients in flashback scenes. INCOMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:**_** I actually have no idea if we still put disclaimers on our fanfics here anymore, but I'm putting one on just to be on the safe side, so here it is:** **I do not own any recognisable characters in this story (Quinlan, Vaun, Lar, the Ancients etc.), they belong to Guillermo Del Toro, Chuck Hogan and the bigwigs at FX. But I do own Freya, and any non recognisable characters (I'll most likely be giving the Ancients' other progeny names, seeing as only Vaun and Lar were ever named). Not making anything off this, this fic is just for fun.**

_**A/N: **_**Hello, people. Long time, no write (about nine years now {OH MY GOD! O.O}). Sorry for not writing before now, had severe Writer's Block, and all my Plot Bunnies died (R.I.P Plot Bunnies), but I'm hoping that some of them have revived a bit (YAY!), at least, some revived to make the first chapter of this story (so...tiny yay then?).**

**I was inspired to write this fic by one I read on AO3 called **_**Instinct**_** by savorvrymoment, and I came up with this. This fic is rated M for naked strigoi cuddles (and bad language), but will most likely NOT have any romance in it, save for what's in the show. No romance between Freya and Quinlan, they're just "siblings".**

**This mostly follows the show, but will NOT have Quinlan's love interest Louisa, or her daughter Lydia, but WILL have book Quinlan's wife (known as Tasa in the **_**Mister Quinlan - Vampire Hunter**_** comics), and her daughter (known as Sura in the **_**Mister Quinlan - Vampire Hunter **_**comics). Sorry to those who like Louisa and Lydia, but I didn't like the fact that Louisa only seemed to see Quinlan as a person after she put makeup and a wig on him. Shallow much, Louisa? QUINLAN'S BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY HE IS, WOMAN! Sorry :D This story will also have Quinlan being with the Ancients for as long as book Quinlan was with them, and will have book Quinlan's origins.**

**Oh, I started watching the show in between seasons 2 and 3 (currently rewatching the series...yet again), but only started reading the books back in May (2019), and the **_**Mister Quinlan - Vampire Hunter **_** comics not long after. But it's taken me this long to write a fanfiction about it because of the untimely demise of all my Plot Bunnies. This is my first fic in nine years, so please be nice. And I don't care if no one's writing fanfics of The Strain any more (**_**sacrilege**_** in my opinion), I'm doing it :P **

**Anywho, stop yer waffling, woman, and get on with the story! This starts from season 2 episode 6: Identity.**

The Strigoi's Daughter.

_**Chapter 1.**_

I'm lying in the smaller nesting chamber off the room behind The Old One's larger nesting chamber, when I hear a very familiar, deep voice coming from the main, larger nesting chamber. He sounds disgusted. I untangle myself from my brother, Lar, and wrap my naked body up in a blanket, follow the voice, and stand behind my Creator; the middle Ancient. There, standing on top of the covered drain, in the middle of the bloody semi circle my Creator and Its two siblings are sitting in, is my eldest brother, Quinlan, whom I haven't seen for the better part of five decades.

"_Pitiful _this '_**City**_' of New York! I expected _Constantinople_! _Baghdad _before the Mongols! _**Rome! **__Oh_! _Those _were _**cities**_! This is a _factory! _A _**machine**_! I can see why he started here." His top lip pulls away slightly from his more blunt, yet no less pointed, teeth in obvious disgust of the newest City we call our home. The Ancient sitting to the left of him makes a grumbling noise, which causes Quinlan to point to that Ancient.

"**YOU INDULGED HIM**! You looked the other way for too long!" He lowers his arm back to his side, and all three Ancients start growling at him. "Perhaps You're growing _complacent_?" The Old Ones growl even more at that, and it feels like my head is about to explode from all the mental shrieking They're doing.

_Insubordination!_

_Insolence!_

_How DARE he speak to us with such blatant disrespect?!_

Unfortunately, my brother doesn't hear Them, but I feel my other brothers', and my father's discomfort, as they can hear, and feel, The Old Ones' anger.

"Watch yourself, _**Born**_! You are out of line!" My father growls from behind my brother, who turns to look at my father. "They didn't know what He was planning! He has the power to disrupt thought, or had you forgotten? They didn't know He was going to break the truce!"

"They should have! They should have known what He was capable of! And They should have called me the _second _They knew He was here, not _ten fucking days later!_" My brother snarls at my father.

_We thought We could handle it without you, Born! But there were a lot more of the unclean than what We thought!_

"They thought we had it under control! But there were more of His strain that what we all thought!" My father tells my brother, who opens his mouth to reply when the Ancients grumble at him more, and he whirls around to look at Them with pure fury on his face, which is whiter than ours.

"**YOU SHOULD HAVE STOPPED HIM SEVENTY YEARS AGO, IF NOT SEVEN **_**CENTURIES **_**AGO**_**!**_" He yells at the Ancients, which causes Them to uncross Their arms, lean forwards in Their tall seats threateningly, and growl even more at him.

_**GUARDS!**_ The Old Ones are virtually screaming in our heads now. I wince in the agony of the migraine I'm getting. Four of my other brothers, who are standing behind my father, march forward several paces, and point their customised shotguns in Quinlan's direction. The rest of my brothers, who were sleeping in the smaller nesting chamber with me, rush into the larger nesting chamber. All of them are now fully dressed in their tactical gear, and all fifteen Sun Hunters, excluding my father, cock their shotguns at the same time. I am the only Sun Hunter who is neither dressed, nor armed.

My father has neither pointed his loaded shotgun at my brother, nor has he removed his pistols from their holsters at his hip. My father and brother are _very_ close, and doesn't want to hurt him. I feel that my other brothers don't want to hurt him either, but they're good little soldiers, and do as the Ancients command.

Seeing himself outnumbered, the fury melts off Quinlan's face, and he closes his eyes, tilts his head back, takes a deep breath to calm himself, before exhaling, shaking his head, and opening his eyes, lowering his head to look at my Creator. He looks to my Creator more than the other Two, because It's the eldest of the Seven Ancients. The other Two are the Second and Fifth.

"I get no pleasure from your anxiety. I trained Vaun and the others to be better, they failed us." My father, and four of the brothers who were in the chamber and standing behind my father, before the Old Ones made them move forwards, all rattle their stingers angrily in Quinlan's direction, but he pays them no mind. All five of them have still healing burn marks on their faces, from their botched mission of kidnapping the multi billionaire, Eldritch Palmer, who was the reason the Master is in our territory in the first place.

"I'm here now. I _will_ stop Him, but for my own reasons." Quinlan continues in a much calmer voice, which makes the Three reluctantly sit back in Their tall, red seats, and cross Their arms back over Their chests. My other brothers all lower their weapons and step back now that, not only is my brother not yelling at the Ancients, but also the Old Ones have calmed down a bit too...at least, They're not screaming in our heads anymore. "I sensed Him, when He was injured. I need to know who got close enough to hurt Him. And I need human hunters, who can work during the day." He pauses for ten solid seconds, before smiling a bit, and continues in a bit of a sarcastic tone, "that is if You have any left."

The Old Ones grumble at him again, in annoyance. I see the Second Ancient, the one on Quinlan's left, roll Its black and red eyes, but They're not angry, just annoyed by the lack of respect my brother is showing Them.

All my other brothers either back off, or go back to the small nesting chamber to sleep, and I follow Lar and the others in that direction, leaving my father to give Quinlan the names of an old strigoi hunter called Professor Abraham Setrakian, and an Hispanic gangbanger called Augustin Elizalde, Gus for short.

A few minutes after I've snuggled back down on the floor, and wrapped my naked form back around Lar's naked form, I hear boots on the concrete. I pull my face away from Lar's neck, and smell Quinlan, who stops at the edge of the blankets Lar and I are snuggled under. We're also lying on top of a pallet made of three thicker blankets.

"Should I be jealous?" Quinlan asks playfully, referring to me cuddling Lar. I turn my head around to look at him, and see he's squatting on the floor next to me. My black eyes, rimmed with a circle of blood red, meet his extremely pale blue eyes. I stick my tongue out at him, which causes him to chuckle. Lar, and my other nine brothers in the nesting chamber, are already asleep; their continuous purring deep and steady.

I watch as he takes off the leather harness from his back, and sets both the harness and his human femoral-bone handled long sword on the floor a few feet away, he then takes his black leather gloves off, and puts them into a pocket of his heavy black coat, which he also removes, setting it near his sword, and lastly he removes the leather gun holster from his shoulders, and sets it on top of his coat. I see that his gun holster holds a pair of dual micro Uzi machine pistols. When that's all out of the way, Quinlan stretches out next to me, the pallet wide enough for four people, and puts his arm around me.

I let go of Lar, and turn around to cuddle Quinlan, and put the blanket over him. Lar snuggles up against my back, and both he and Quinlan throw and arm around me, and around each other, each pulling themselves tighter to me. I pull Quinlan's black vest, and thin navy undershirt up, and put my bare hands on his bare chest; my right hand over his heart, which is beating steadily.

Quinlan's body temperature is around ten degrees cooler than mine, which is one hundred and twenty-five degrees Fahrenheit, so his is approximately one hundred and fifteen degrees. If both of us were human, we'd never survive a body temperature at one hundred and eight degrees Fahrenheit. Good thing I'm not human, and my brother's strigoi DNA makes it so that high of a temperature doesn't kill him.

Quinlan lowers his head, and touches his forehead to mine, and purring deeply. I return his purring, and move my head, so I'm nuzzling his face, and he shuffles himself even closer to me. His thigh slips in between mine, and I drape my right leg over his left hip. Eventually Quinlan pulls his face away from mine, and I instinctively whine at him, but he leans his face closer to mine again, to cover it in quick butterfly kisses, and I go back to purring and trilling softly in contentment, before he covers my lips with his in a five second long peck.

When he pulls back from the kiss, I bury my face into the swirling pattern on his neck, and deeply inhale his scent, letting it relax me, the last of my migraine going away.

"I missed you, _Parvulus_." He murmurs, setting his chin gently on top of my bald head. I pull my hand from under his shirt, reach up, and start playing with his pointed left ear.

"I missed you too, _Stórr Bróðir._" I reply against his throat. I feel him kiss the top of my head, before resting his chin back on it, and purring again. I find myself returning his purring on instinct alone, my body sagging in relaxation and I drift off to sleep, thinking of when I first met Quinlan eleven hundred years ago.

_Scandinavia - 877 AD/CE, Sunset._

_After clearing the table, and washing, drying and putting the dishes away, I excuse myself to my moderate sized bedroom, claiming that I need to lie down, but I'm really waiting for my dead father to show up._

_My father went missing five years ago when I was eight years old. He went raiding with the other men from our village, but never came back...not human anyways. More men went out to look for them, and found their ship wrecked on a nearby shore. The bodies of all the men were found, most of them on the ship, others in the sea...all except my father; he was the only one they couldn't find. The other villagers believed he was dead, and his body lost at sea, I believed so too, until around a month later when he showed up at my window. _

_He looked a lot different: his skin was as white as snow, and glowing slightly in the light of the full moon, his face suddenly had markings that were never there before; they're dark and go diagonally across his face, from the top of the left side of his forehead, to the bottom of the right side of his bottom jaw, most of his red hair is gone, his dark blue eyes were now as black as his pupils and flat with a blood red ring around them, and his teeth and ears were pointed. His fingernails were long and sharp, like claws. My heart almost stopped at the sight of him._

_"Freya? Please open the window,_ _Dýrr Einn ." He said. Even his voice was different, almost musical and sounds like there are two voices speaking at the same time. I refused at first, but then eventually let him in, and he told me he was a strix, which was an immortal creature that had to drink the blood of the living to survive. He then told me what happened to he and his crew._

_His ship ran aground because of a storm, and some of his crew died from drowning, others died from the injuries they sustained, and the rest were fed to the strix that found them. My father and the others were taken to a cave about a mile away from the beach, and, one by one, they were fed to six beings known as the Ancients, and some were fed to Their progeny. _

_When They fed on my father, They decided to let him turn because he was the best warrior the ship had, and They were in need of another warrior. He had to be the best warrior because he was the ship's Captain and also the village Chief. His story was told over several nights, because I had to sleep and wrap my brain around what he had told me, and he had to leave before sunrise, or he would burn to death. _

_He always left after I fell asleep, but, that first night he begged me not to tell anyone, or I would put them in mortal danger. I agreed, and who would have believed me anyways? Everyone in the village knew that I had a wild imagination, and they would think that I not only made that story up, but I did it because my mind would not have been able to handle losing my father. I made up stories about my mother after she died when I was four, trying to give my father a son. Both she and my brother died, and I could not accept that; I was an only child, and was very close to both my parents. Losing my father as well almost drove me mad, and I stopped talking until that first night he appeared at my window. _

_When my father went raiding, he would leave me with my mother's sister, her husband, and their two young children. Thankfully I have never had to share a bedroom with either of them, as they are both boys, so I was allowed a bedroom to myself. It's with my aunt and uncle that I now live, but I had to move out of the larger house I grew up in because that was for the village Chief, which my father was no longer._

_I have to wait about an hour after sunset before he taps on the wooden shutters on my window. Climbing off the bed, I go to the window and open it to let him in, and promptly see he is not alone. Standing beside my father is a tall man, who smiles at me. He is a head taller than my father. He looks similar to my father, except his skin is whiter, his teeth aren't as pointed, but still look sharper than my dull human teeth, and his eyes are the colour of moonlight. _

_He has markings on his face as well, and his face is also scarred. His markings aren't as dark, and they go straight down his bald head then splits at the top of his nose, and goes diagonally down his cheeks in opposite directions, that is; the line on his left cheek continues down his face going from his nose to the left side of his face, and the line on the right cheek continues down his face on the right side of his face, and the lines continue down either side of his neck, but I can't tell if the lines go further down, as the collar of his heavy black coat hides them. He also has a strange swirling pattern on his throat, which isn't white but dark red. All in all, he looks beautiful, in an eerie way._

_"Good evening, Dýrr Einn." My father says softly so my aunt and uncle don't hear, stepping through the open window, the tall man following him after, while I go back to sit on my bed._

_"Good evening, faðir." I reply, still watching the stranger, who sits on the wooden chair that sits against the wall opposite my bed. My father sits on the bed next to me, and I turn to him. _

_"Freya, Dýrr Einn, this is Quintus, he's my brother and mentor. He asked to come see you because he heard so much about you." As soon as my father says his name, the tall man, Quintus, smiles at me again, and I turn to address him._

_"Good evening, Quintus, sir." I say, lowering my eyes to look at his knees. I notice that he's wearing all black, which makes his skin even whiter._

_"Good evening, Smár Einn. How are you this fine evening?" His voice is deep, but pleasant and soothing, and it also sounds like there are two voices speaking the words, but not as noticeable as my father's._

_"I am very well, thank you, sir." I reply. "And yourself, sir?" I see him standing up, and watch as he walks towards me, and very gently takes my hand. His hand is hot and quite rough; he's obviously done hard labour in his life._

_"I am very well too, Smár Einn, thank you for asking." He raises my hand to his lips, and kisses my knuckles. No one has ever done that with me. I feel my face go hot, and know that my cheeks are red, and my heart is fluttering, and he smiles again. Afterwards, he gently pulls his hand from mine, and walks back to sit on the chair._

_"Dýrr Einn, Quintus and I have decided to teach you how to fight. I can only be with you at night, so I cannot protect you during the day. You are the most precious thing in the world to me, and I do not want you to get hurt." My father says. For the first time, I notice that he's carrying two wooden swords. "Every night, for an hour or two, one of us will train you. Quintus is the best warrior amongst us; he was a gladiator, and a Roman Legionnaire, he will train you when I cannot be here." _

_And with that, the three of us climb out the window, and they begin training me with swords._

_**A/N: TRANSLATIONS:**__** Please note that the only language I speak is English, so I had to use Google Translator, and another site for the other languages. I apologise profusely if any of this is wrong.**_

_**. Parvulus**_ \- **Little One (Latin)**

**. **_**Stórr Bróðir**__ \- _**Big Brother (Old Norse)**

**. **_**Dýrr Einn - **_**Dear One (Old Norse)**

**. **_**Smár Einn - **_**Little One (Old Norse)**

**So...what did you think? Constructive criticism only please. Should I continue? Again, please be nice, as this is my first fanfic in nine years. Thank you so much. **


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:**__** Thank you to the following for reviewing this fic:**_

_**equipagan:**__** Thank you so much for your review, glad you like the story. Yeah, the Sun Hunters have fascinated me, and wanted to go into a bit more depth. I hope this story does that. I love Vaun too, he's my wee cutie pie :D I hated that they killed him off (understandable, seeing as Stephen McHattie was 68 when he first played Vaun), so I wanted to bring him back, especially as Quinlan said that he trained him. Thank you for saying that Freya sounds like a cool chick. I hope she stays that way. Xxxx**_

_**Amiera Corbeaux:**__** Thank you for your review, glad you think my story is awesome :D I really hope it stays that way :D I hope my Writer's Block stays away *crosses everything that can be crossed* Glad my fic was on your list to read :D I hope you like this chapter as well :D Xxxx**_

_**Kittynater89:**__** Thank you for your review, love. Glad you love it :D Here's the long awaited update, and I hope you love this one too. Please PM me if there's something wrong with it. Xxxx**_

_**Well here it is: the long awaited update :D Sorry for waiting so long to update, my Plot Bunnies for this story seem to have went into hibernation, but now that I manage to spend the past week, or so writing chapter 2, I'm hoping they've come out of hibernation. **_

_**Well, not all my Plot Bunnies for this story went into hibernation as I was able to write two parts for future chapters of this story: the first one is set after season 3 episode 4: But Not Forgotten, and the second part if set at the end of season 3 episode 8: White Light.**_

_**I still have Plot Bunnies for two other fanfics of The Strain: **_

_**1) **__**The Sixth and Seventh**__**. I've written the Prologue and most of chapter one of that story. I would've posted up the Prologue, but I felt it was too short. Hopefully I'll get to finish chapter 1 soon.**_

_**2) **__**The Ancient**__**. I've written the first chapter of this one, but I'm not really sure where I'm going with it to be honest, so debating on whether or not to post it up.**_

_**Just to say that I've tweaked strigoi anatomy ever so slightly with this fic (and might continue to keep it tweaked in other fanfics for The Strain). All strigoi have noses, with the exception of the Ancients. Other than that, strigoi in this fic function the same as in the show :D**_

_**Anywho, here you go:**_

_**Chapter 2.**_

I wake up several hours later when the sun sets, and notice something different than when I fell asleep: I'm still lying on my left side, and still cuddling someone, but the scent is wrong; it's not Quinlan's scent, but my father's. Quinlan must've left shortly after I fell asleep, and my father quickly took his place before I noticed.

They used to do that every so often before, but apparently I never let them do it without protesting; they both told me that I would whine at them when they did it, even though I have no recollection of either them moving, nor of me protesting. Most of the time I would sleep in between the two of them, with Lar normally curled up against my father, but when one was on guard duty first, the other one would take his place beside me, while the other did guard duty.

My father pulls himself gently out of my embrace, but nudges my shoulder for me to get up.

"Five more minutes." I murmur, turning round and cuddling Lar, and preventing him from moving. Lar embraces me back with a chuckle and a sigh.

"Five minutes, then I want you both up." My father says, getting up from the pallet and I hear him putting his tactical gear back on. "Freya, you have guard duty. Lar, you have hunting duty with myself, Jacob, Petyr and Michael." Both Lar and I grunt in reply.

When my father's dressed and leaves the nesting chamber, I stretch my stiff limbs around Lar, and hear several joints pop, then I yawn unnecessarily. Old habits. My jaw cracks with the yawn.

"Old woman." Lar murmurs with another chuckle. I playfully growl at him, and slap his backside.

"Shut up, you young whippersnapper." That causes Lar to laugh properly. Lar is seven hundred years old; four hundred years younger than me. "You be careful when you go out hunting tonight, _Smár Bróðir,_ hunt someplace you've never been before."

"Yes, mother." Lar replies, and gets another slap. Lar has to retaliate this time, and we end up play fighting, but I'm older and stronger than him, not to mention the best fighter in the nest, so he submits quickly, and I pull him back to me and cuddle him again.

"I mean it! Be careful." I say after he snuggles back into me, and nuzzles my face.

"I will." He assures me. Before I can reply, my father comes back into the now mostly empty nesting chamber; Lar and I are the only ones still in the chamber.

"Up, now! You've had fifteen minutes, now time to get up." Both Lar and I groan, but we get up anyways.

It doesn't take long for Lar to get dressed and put his tactical gear on, including his weapons, but it takes me a bit longer because I have more weapons. First thing I do is put my black underwear on, both panties and a bra, then I put on my black combat pants, belt and heavy combat boots. Next, I strap on a spring loaded nine inch bowie knife to each wrist, before putting a thin, long sleeved, black undershirt on.

I put a pair of stainless steel Colt M1911A1 handguns, with Mother-of-pearl grips in the gun holsters I slide over my shoulders once I put my thick black and red, hooded combat jacket on. After that, I slip a black leather sword harness over my shoulders, which holds a pair of silver longswords crossed over one another. I've adjusted the harness and gun holsters so that they don't interfere with me grabbing my handguns, which are sitting a bit lower on my sides than they should be; around waist level.

I attach a silver machete onto the left side of my belt, and attach another pair of gun holsters, this time on my thighs, which holds another pair of Colt M1911A1 handguns, black this time. Next I secure my elbow pads, and knee pads, then I put a six inch hunting knife to the inside of each boot, before putting a twelve inch bowie knife in the outsides of my combat boots. Next comes the thick black gloves, with hard knuckle protectors.

The last thing I put on is my combat vest with multiple pockets, which is made shorter than everyone else's, because of my extra handguns. I have even more knives of various sizes in the pockets of my combat vest, plus a few small, but deadly, explosives and their detonators.

Two things I carry on my person, that no one else carries: an iPod complete with earphones, and a cell phone...which no longer works, but I still use it for either taking pictures, listening to music I don't have on my iPod, or playing my jigsaw app that I don't need the Internet for.

I miss having the Internet, especially social media. Hey, I can be on the Internet and no one really knows that they're actually talking to an eleven hundred and fifty year old vampire. A girl has to have a life outside of her vampire family, ya know? Besides, some makeup, a wig, and contacts, and I can pretend to be human too.

As long as I don't tell anyone the truth, keep my pointed ears covered with my wig, and not show my long, pointed incisors when I smile, and I don't wear any of my tactical gear, humans think they're talking to a young human woman who looks to be in her early twenties. I was twenty-three when my creator turned me into a strigoi.

I may have severe social anxiety and hate meeting new people, but I'm more comfortable talking to people online, and have quite a few friends on social media that I feel closer to than any human I ever met in person, even when I was human.

Once fully dressed, and armed to the teeth, I make my way out of the smaller nesting chamber, and into the larger nesting chamber which houses the Ancients. Coming up behind my creator, I step up onto Its tall, red pedestal, grab onto the back, and go up on my tiptoes. My creator leans down to Its right side, and lowers Its cheek to me, which I plant a kiss on and nuzzle with my own cheek, before stepping down and repeating the same thing twice more to the other two Ancients. All three Ancients start purring at my affection, before I dawdle away to the end of the chamber, go down the corridor to the left of the entrance/exit, and turn right into another chamber.

This other chamber is a lot smaller and dimly lit. In the middle of the chamber is a large cage which can hold ten humans inside, but now only holds one thin, naked female with a metal collar on her neck, who cowers when she sees me, and moves to the back of the cage. I grab two chains from the wall, and approach the cage, and the woman whimpers.

She starts screaming when I unlock the cage and advance on her. She tries to put up a fight, and manages to punch me hard in the face, and splits my bottom lip on the right side; I taste blood. I growl loudly in response, and backhand her hard across the face. When she falls to the floor, I attach the chains to either side of the collar, and pull her out of the cage.

I drag her close to me, pull up her left hand, and look for a wound in case she either split her skin open when she punched me, or a worm got under her skin from my split lip. I don't see a wound, but I sniff her hand anyways. Thankfully I don't smell, or hear any worms, so she's clean. I don't feel any worms coming out of the cut on my lip, so hopefully there are none.

I grab both chains again, and drag her out of the small chamber and towards the Ancients' chamber, and she tries fighting me the whole way, while screaming for help. Unfortunately for her, I'm a lot stronger than she is and I've put some slack on the chains, so she can't hit me while she's pulling back. Also, her screams do her no good, and all they do is hurt her throat, and my ears.

Having had enough of her incessant high pitched screaming, I yank hard on the chains and she stumbles forwards into me. I punch her on the nose, which cracks and bleeds.

"Shut up, human!" I snarl at her, and rattle my stinger at her. She stares at me, but doesn't stop.

"HELP ME!" She screams as loud as she can. "PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

"PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" I scream even louder in my duel voice, which shocks her into silence. "No human can hear you, you stupid moron! We're deep underground, and the _only_ people who can hear you are people like _me_, and trust me, the only help _they'll_ provide is for _me_, not _you!_"

I tug on her chains even harder, and she slips and falls on the floor, but I trail her along the concrete floor instead, which causes her to scream again, this time in agony rather than fear. I stop trailing her, and address her again.

"Get up!" She doesn't move. "You have two choices: you can either get up and follow me, or I can continue trailing you along the concrete, and shred even more of your skin. The choice is yours." She looks up at me with big brown eyes, which I've heard humans describe as doe eyes, then she stands up and her shoulders hunch, defeated.

"Trust me, your fate here is more merciful than your fate out there." She doesn't answer, but she doesn't fight back either, so I pull on the chains once more, and she reluctantly follows.

I got a good look at her when I captured her, just to make sure she wasn't one of my online friends, especially the ones I would've talked to on a regular basis, but she's not, I've never seen her before. Good thing too, as I would never have taken her. I wouldn't have the heart to feed one of my online friends to the Old Ones; it would kill me.

I'm a strange Strigoi: we aren't supposed to be able to feel love, yet I love my nest with all my heart, and I also love my online friends. The Ancients have always found that aspect of me odd, but they secretly enjoy it, especially when I'm incredibly affectionate towards them. For a monster, I'm actually quite cuddly, but, if you hurt my family, I can be the most cold hearted monster you could ever have the displeasure of meeting.

Once I pull the girl out of the door to the smaller chamber, my brother, Gabriel grabs the other chain, and helps me pull the girl along the corridor. I don't need him to help, but I appreciate it. The girl gasps at the sight of my brother, and tries to pull back, but to no avail.

"Thought you could use some help, sister." Gabriel says to me, pulling very hard on the chain. The girl's eyes widen at Gabriel's voice: not only is there a double layer to his voice, like all strigoi, but it sounds almost musical, like water running over rock.

Gabriel has always had a beautiful voice, even when he was human, and very attractive too: shoulder length raven black hair, and piercing dark blue eyes. Even as a strigoi, he's still beautiful to look at, though his eyes have darkened to jet black ringed with crimson, and doesn't have a single strand of hair on his head.

It's not lost on me that I have three brothers named after Archangels: Gabriel, Michael and Raphael. We even had a Lucifer once, but he was killed by humans not long after Quinlan left the nest fifty years ago.

"Thanks, Gabriel. I really appreciate it." Together we both haul the woman into the Ancients' nesting chamber, and, predictably, she starts freaking out again as soon as she lays eyes on the Old Ones. I roll my eyes at her incessant screeching. Every. Single. Fucking. Time!

Neither of us acknowledge the woman's screams as we drag her to the covered drain in the middle of the blood soaked floor between the Ancients, and chain her to the floor, then very quickly back away. The Ancients, who had been dozing from I went to retrieve the girl, open Their eyes, see Their next meal, climb off Their pedestals and advance on the poor girl, who's now screeching incoherently.

They sting her in unison, and drain some of her blood, before retracting Their stingers, and circle around her as if They're vultures. They use Their claw-like fingernails to slash the woman's skin open, making her bleed and making her even more terrified. Once she's terrified enough, They sting her again, and pull her to the floor...it doesn't take long for her screams to stop, then her heart stops.

My creator grabs her head, and yanks it all the way around, so that she's facing the opposite direction. Unlike Their youngest brother, the Ancients rarely let humans turn, They see immortality as a gift, and if you don't meet Their criteria, you don't become a strigoi. Loyalty and fighting skills are the two biggest criteria, but They'll also take your wealth if you have it. Both the New World, and the Old World Ancients are probably the richest in the world.

Once the Ancients have finished with the human, and have climbed back onto Their pedestals to go back to sleep, I unchain the now dead human, left her up into my arms, and bring her to the incinerator, which is right next door to the small chamber she was kept in.

While I'm waiting on the corpse turning to ash, I think about the night the Ancients turned me, after watching me for years through the eyes of my father, when I followed in my mother's footsteps and came close to dying in childbirth, after birthing a stillborn daughter.

_Scandinavia, 887 AD/CE, Just after sunset._

_"Push, Freya! You must push!" My aunt says to me from the bottom of my bed. I take a deep breath, and push when I feel the next contraction, the pain making me scream. I have been in labour now all day, and now into the evening, and still my child hasn't arrived yet. I'm worried, as I haven't felt my child move for almost a week. I'm also incredibly drained._

_In between pushes, I glance towards the window, which is open slightly, and see two pairs of eyes in the darkness; one pale blue pair, almost white, and one pair of black with red: Quintus and my father. Quintus' ice blue eye are emotionless, but my father's black and red eyes are filled with both worry and dread; he's seen this before with my mother. _

_Around twenty more minutes of pushing, I finally feel my baby coming out, and my aunt pulls it the rest of the way. The baby doesn't make a noise. I look at my aunt, who's looking worried at my baby, and gently tapping the child's bottom, but no noises. She decides to strike harder, but still nothing._

_"What is it?" I ask in a weak voice. My head is swaying on my neck, like it's really heavy, and my eyes are drooping closed, my vision going black at the edges. "Aunt Helga? What's wrong?"_

_"She's not breathing." My aunt reluctantly says to me, still holding my daughter. "I am sorry, Freya, but your daughter is stillborn."_

_My eyes fill up with tears, and my vision darkens even more. I hold my shaky arms out to my daughter, and my aunt gives her to me. I hold my tiny baby to my chest, and looking at her closed eyes. Her lips are blue, and she's growing cold from my body heat seeping out of her. The tears fall down my face fast, and I struggle to breathe. Eventually I take in a deep breath, and scream. My aunt winces at the scream, but says nothing. Looking at the bloody bed, my aunt now starts to panic. _

_She turns to her helper, and demands towels. I vaguely hear her, nor do I pay much attention to the young girl running out the door to get extra towels. The only thing I care about is my dead daughter. My eyes droop even more, and my vision darkens further, and my daughter feels like a heavy rock._

_"Freya? Stay awake, Minn Dýrr mær. Please stay awake!" She rushes over to me, and takes my child from my arms. I don't want her to, but I have no energy to fight her off._

_"Please." I say weakly. "Please." Instead of giving my daughter back to me, she rushes out of the room with her, most likely to see where her helper has disappeared to. I collapse back onto the pillows, and continue to cry loudly._

_"Dýrr Einn?" The voice makes me look to the left, and I see my father standing next to the bed. Quintus is standing by the open window._

_"Faðir?" My voice sounds incredibly weak, and my throat feels dry._

_"She's lost a lot of blood, brother. She won't make it." Quintus says, his voice full of the emotion that his eyes lacked earlier, but now I see that emotion on his face, including his eyes. I turn to my father and watch as he tilts his head to the side. I learned years ago that when he did that, it meant the Ancients were talking to him. His eyes snap back to Quintus._

_"They want her brought to Them." He says. Quintus whirls to look at him in shock, then their heads whip around to the door, where my aunt is just outside. "They want to save her. You must bring her to Them, Quintus. You are faster than me. Go now! Hurry!"_

_Quintus moves so fast, I can't even see him until he's right by the bed. He gently puts one arm under my back, and the other under my knees, and pulls me into his arms as though I weigh nothing, and I automatically wrap my arms around his neck. I look over his shoulder at the bed and see a massive pool of blood._

_"Freya, put your head against my neck, Smár Einn." I do as he tells me, and feel the air rush at me as Quintus moves at a speed I never knew he had. I peek over his shoulder again, and see my father following behind, but there is quite a distance between us. I press my face against the side of Quintus' neck again, before everything goes dark._

_)*( )*( )*( )*( )*(_

_When I come to, I have no idea if my eyes are open or closed, as it's pitch dark. I feel myself blink, but I see nothing: no torches, no candles, not even stars or the moon. I do hear voices though; they're all around me, but quiet. Two voices I recognise: my father's and Quintus', but I don't know what anyone is saying._

_"Faðir?" I whisper. Suddenly, the voices stop._

_"I am here, Dýrr Einn." My father replies, to my right. I feel a hot, yet soft hand touch my cheek. I can also feel warm wetness between my legs, and I still feel incredibly weak._

_"Why is it do dark, Faðir?" Our voices sound strange; it's loud, and echoes, as if we're underground. Before he can reply, a spark appears to my left, and a torch is lit, lighting up the large space. I see that the walls and ceiling are made of rock, making me think of a cave._

_Looking around, I see quite a few people who look similar to my father: bald, pale skin, pointed ears, pointed teeth, and red and black eyes. I look behind me, and see six tall and imposing creatures._

_"Dýrr Einn, these are the Ancients. They wanted to meet you." I look up into the faces of the six Ancients, then quickly look down, away from Their eyes. I see Them reclining on something tall, which They're also standing on, but I have no idea what the contraptions are. They're also naked: Their bodies look old, and worn, and I think They were male at one point; They have flat chests, and They lack genitals. Raising my eyes back up to Their faces, I see that They're also completely hairless, and Their pointed ears are even longer than anyone else's. They also lack a nose. All six stare at me. I quickly look down again, and see a large pool of blood on the rocky floor underneath me._

_"Vaun, the introductions can wait." Quintus says, near the torch. He must've been the one who lit it. "Freya is dying, and your creator agreed to turn her."_

_"Freya?" I look at my father. "My creator wants to make you like me, but needs your permission to do so. Do you agree?" _

_"Make me like you? You mean, a strix?"_

_"Yes, Dýrr Einn. It is the only way to save you." My father looks at me with wide, pleading red and black eyes. When I don't answer right away, he continues. "Please, Dýrr Einn. I watched your mother die, please don't make me lose you the same way." He makes a strange noise, like a wounded animal._

_"I...I..." I stutter, looking all around at the others. There are about fifteen of them, not including my father, Quintus, or the Ancients. "I don't want to..." My father looks crestfallen. "...die. I don't want to die." Tears well up in my eyes, and I see my vision going dark again._

_"You won't. You will never die again. Not of sickness, and not of old age. You will stay the age you are now." Quintus replies. I look from him, to the floor, then back to my father._

_"Alright." I say. "I agree."_

_One of the Ancients comes down from Its perch, walks to me, leans down, and picks me up, like Quintus did when he carried me away. It pulls me up to Its face, opens Its mouth wide, then Its stinger appears, and very gently latches on to my throat. I feel I sharp sting, but I try not to make a sound. I watch as the other five Ancients climb down from Their perches, and walk towards me, before I see, and feel, Them sting me on various places on my body. The first Ancient's eyes are the last thing I see, and the last thing I hear, are the Old Ones drinking my blood._

_)*( )*( )*( )*( )*(_

_**Freya. Freya. Wake up,**__**Smár Einn. **_

_**Mmmmm. Where am I? Why is my throat sore? Why is my whole body sore? **__I think to myself, hearing a deep, multi-layered voice in my head. I'm lying on the rocky floor of a small chamber. I'm assuming I'm still in the cave I was brought to earlier. I sit up, and look around myself. I see a few of the strigoi from earlier, but not the Ancients. I hear a strange humming in my head, but it's also oddly comforting._

_**You were dying, We saved you, just like We saved your father. Please wake up. You must feed, Smár Einn. Only when you feed, will the pain in your throat and body subside.**_

_**Feed? **__The thought of eating makes me cringe._

_**Vaun, please bring Freya a human, she needs blood.**_

_**Blood?**__ My mouth waters at the thought of blood. Strange._

_**Yes, my Lord.**__ I hear my father, but I don't hear his duel voice with my ears, instead it's in my head. After a few minutes, I hear the whimpering of a man. My father walks in pulling a naked, young man behind him, possibly younger than me, with a chain around his neck._

_Once the young man is in front of me, my father pulls him down to my level, pulls his head back with his hair, and exposes his throat to me, but I look at him confused. My father pulls out a small knife, and cuts the man's throat slightly; not enough to make him bleed out, but enough to make him bleed slightly._

_As soon as I smell the blood, my mouth automatically opens, my tongue appears, but it extents farther than that of a human, then it splits down the middle vertically before a stinger emerges, which lashes out quickly, and latches onto the man's throat, right where Faðir cut him. My stinger seems to know what to do, as I feel something protruding from the bifurcated end, and feel it puncturing through skin, and muscle, before it finally punctures through an artery._

_As soon as I get blood into the stinger, I start sucking it up, and relishing in the relief I feel on my burning, and sore throat. Instantly, every ache in my body recedes with every gulp of blood. _

_"Slowly, Smár Einn." I her Quintus say from behind me. Funny, I never noticed him there earlier. He puts a hand on my back, but I instinctively growl at him, which sounds muffled because my stinger is in the way. Quintus growls back, louder and more aggressive than me, which makes me stop growling._

_**Listen to Quintus,**__**Dýrr Einn. **__My father says to me in my head, but I ignore him. My stomach starts to twist uncomfortably._

_**Drink slowly, Freya.**__ The multi layered voice says, sensing my discomfort, but this time there's more authority behind it. I listen to the voice, which I instinctively know is my creator, and slow down. The discomfort in my stomach slowly eases off. Not long after that, the human's heart stops._

_**Now, snap his neck, Smár Einn. **__My creator commands gently._

_**Why?**__ I ask my creator._

_**He is not worthy of eternal life, Smár Einn. Only those we deem worthy are granted immortality. **__I do as my creator commands, and snap the young man's neck._

_**And I was worthy?**__ I ask confused._

_**Yes, Dýrr Einn. We have watched you closely these past ten years, and We have grown very fond of you. **__I can hear the affection in the multi layered voice._

_**Is that the ONLY reason You saved me, my Lord?**_

_**Not the only reason, no. We have seen that you are incredibly loyal and an excellent fighter. Both are qualities that we look for in a worthy human. **__I don't know what to say to that._

_**I thank you, my Lords. **__Is the only thing I can come up with._

_**You are most welcome, Dýrr Einn. **__This time it's not a single multi layered voice, but several. I'm assuming it's all six of the Ancients talking at the same time.___

_**So, now what is to become of me? **__I ask, standing up._

_**Now you will become a Sun Hunter.**__ My father told me a long time ago that the Sun Hunters are what the Ancients call Their progeny, and their main function is to destroy the minions of the Seventh Ancient; a rogue that turns humans into strixes all willy nilly. The Seventh does not care who becomes a strix, It wants to turn quite a lot of mankind, and enslave the rest, but the other six Old Ones don't want that, they want to protect mankind._

_My father tells Quintus what the Ancients said to me, and he walks around me until his at the front, and hands me my wooden sword._

_"Come__, __parva soror, time to train you more vigorously to become a Sun Hunter." With that, he turns on his heel, and walks away, with me quickly following him into the night to train. _

_Training is difficult at the start, because strigoi twitch an awful lot. Once I master my twitches so that they're virtually nonexistent, I master the art of sword fighting, and move on to hand to hand combat, which I eventually excel at. I push myself to be the best fighter, and it pays off. Quintus remains the only one who can kick my ass into oblivion. _

_**A/N:**__** Well, how was chapter 2? Was it as good as chapter 1? Better? Worse? Please let me know :D **_

_**Oh, and regarding Freya and Vaun sleeping naked together; strigoi don't function the same as humans, even sentient strigoi. Vaun and Freya don't care that they're father and daughter, as there's nothing going on, except cuddles. Just in case anyone was screaming INCEST or something ._. Nope, no incest.**_

_**Regarding Freya's handguns: If you look them up, especially the stainless steel ones, you'll see they resemble Dean Winchester's gun from Supernatural. Anyone who knows me knows Supernatural is my favourite TV show, and that I love Dean's gun, and I wanted to add that into my fic here :D**_

_**Translations:**__** (According to Google and a Norse website. I apologise if these are wrong)**_

_**Smár Bróðir **_\- Little Brother (Old Norse)

_**Minn Dýrr mær - **_My dear girl (Old Norse)

_**Dýrr Einn **_\- Dear One (Old Norse) {When Vaun says it, I want it to mean Dear One, but when the Ancients say it, I want it to mean Precious One}

_**Faðir**_\- Father (Old Norse)

_**Smár Einn **_\- Little One (Old Norse)

_**Parva Soror **_\- Little Sister (Latin)


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:**_** Well, here it is. Finally chapter 3 is up. I want to point out that I'm aware Quinlan is quite out of character in this chapter, but I wanted him to be the complete opposite from the Quinlan we all know and love, but just around Freya. I don't like it when people think that Quinlan's a "cold hearted bastard", because he actually isn't; he just comes across as cold hearted and indifferent as a means to not only keep people away, but also to protect himself. I wanted to show his more caring, lovable and cuddly side (I picture him to be extremely cuddly...if given the chance to be). For all intents and purposes, Freya is Quinlan's little sister, so I wanted him to treat her differently than he does everyone else. Hopefully he'll be in character with others.**

**To answer **_**equipagan's **_**question here (even though I already answered it): Yes, Freya will be meeting the cast of **_**The Strain**_**, but not Nora. I've already written a prequel to this story called **_**The Vampire And The Doctor**_**, where Freya not only meets Nora, but also Gus. I'll put the meeting between Gus, the Professor and the Ancients as a flashback scene in this story, but not yet. Maybe I'll do it when I get to season 3. **_**The Vampire And The Doctor**_** is finished, and chapter 2 of **_**The Ancient**_** is up :)**

**Anyhow, on to chapter 3 :D**

_**Chapter 3.**_

I leave the corpse to turn to ash in the incinerator and leave the room, go back to the Chamber of the Ancients, who are now fast asleep, go down the other corridor leading to the elevator which goes up to a long, yet slight incline that leads up and out of the compound, and take guard outside for several hours.

The proper entrance to the compound itself lies about one hundred feet below ground, but the Chamber of the Ancients, as well as the rest of the compound is several hundred feet below ground. To get to the Chamber of the Ancients, one must take the elevator, or the stairs.

Above the compound sits an abandoned factory, which stores quite a few black SUVs with tinted black windows on the ground floor. The upper levels of the abandoned factory are where most of us Sun Hunters spend the nights keeping watch, but some of us keep watch at the wall. The abandoned factory is the only way to get to the proper entrance to the compound. And we have several exits, but none can be opened from the outside.

Outside, the air is filled with smoke, screams and sirens, with the occasional helicopter flying overhead. Directly in front of the compound is a large, yet very cracked parking lot. I across the parking lot, taking care not to trip over some high weeds, we really need to cut those back or use weed killer, and go to the fifteen foot high, solid metal wall that surrounds the entire perimeter of the area the Old Ones own, and climb the steps built into the wall and stand on a large metal platform overlooking the abandoned industrial area also owned by the Ancients. Some of Lower Manhattan is visible in the distance.

I can easily count fifteen fires, most of which are on various floors of tall skyscrapers, but some are in smaller buildings, in the distance that shows some of the Lower Manhattan skyline. It has been several centuries since I last saw chaos of this magnitude. Thankfully, during my entire stay up on my perch, I don't see a single human, nor a single unclean strigoi.

At ten thirty pm, my brother Raphael relieves me of outside guard duty, and I go back inside to do guard duty at the top of the corridor leading to the Chamber of the Ancients, and relieve Tobias of that duty. I keep myself entertained by listening to music on my phone, but keeping the volume low so that it's nothing more than background noise, and play with one of my nine inch bowie knives. I look through my playlist and choose "Ladykiller" by Gabriel Bolivar. I try not to scoff at that fact that the guy singing is now one of the Master's unclean. It's a good song though.

My taste in music varies from "Greensleeves", which is the oldest song I have, to some new music. From Classical, and Opera to Heavy Metal. As long as I think it sounds good, I'll listen to it. I also have cheesy Pop music, and Christmas music, but I've been listening to a lot of metal lately. The song switches from "Ladykiller" by Gabriel Bolivar to "For Whom The Bell Tolls" by Metallica, and I quietly sing to myself.

At midnight, I hear footsteps coming towards the entrance to the corridor I'm still guarding. My father and brothers all came back from hunting about an hour ago, and there's no one else outside the building except guards. I don't worry as the outside guards would never have let anyone in if they didn't know them.

I switch off "Ich Tu Dir Weh" by Rammstein, to get a better grasp on the footsteps, then I see the owner a few seconds later; it's Quinlan, and he has a furious expression written on his face. Uh oh. That can't be good.

As soon as he spots me, he makes a beeline straight for me, and only stops when he almost 'bumps' into me. I don't move because I know what he wants: a cuddle, and the chance to rant. Someone has obviously pissed him off. Royally.

"Are you Okay, Quinlan?" I ask, opening my arms to him and offering cuddles, which he immediately accepts. "Who pissed you off?" A deep, yet quiet, growl is my only answer. I know the growl wasn't meant for me; if it was, he would not be cuddling me. I keep a tight grip around his waist.

He removes one arm from around my shoulders, reaches around and unzips my jacket until the zipper meets my combat vest, then he moves the material away from my neck, which he buries his face into before wrapping his arm back around my shoulders, and holds me tightly. At least a minute passes before he decides to answer me.

"That stupid old man, and that fucking rat catcher!" He growls into my neck, and I tighten my grip on his waist with my right hand, and I move my gloved left hand up to cup the back of his head and hold him to me. I'm guessing the 'stupid old man' is Professor Setrakian, but I have no idea who 'that fucking rat catcher' is.

"I'm assuming you found the Professor?" He hums in acknowledgement. "Who's the rat catcher?"

"That stupid old man named the Rat Catcher, Mister Fet." Quinlan says before snuggling his face further into my bare neck, and he lowers his right arm around my waist, and my grip tightens. Never heard of him.

"What happened?" I turn my face towards him, and plant a couple of kisses on his cheek, which makes him stop growling, and he purrs instead. I grin at that, before returning his purring.

"I came _so close_ to the Master! _So close_ to fulfilling my destiny and destroying that Beast once and for all, but those _bloody humans _fucked it up!"

"How?" Using my teeth, I bite the middle finger of my left glove, and use my teeth to pull it off, before putting the glove into one of the many pockets on my vest. I use my short, yet sharp, claw-like fingernails to gently rub his bald head in circles, which makes him purr more, and he moans slightly. Little known fact: gently running fingernails over Quinlan's head, or up and down his bare arms, calms him. So does singing. Music really does soothe the savage beast...even though he's not a beast. I feel his tense body start to relax against mine. I start to gently rock us both from side to side and he doesn't fight it.

"That stupid old man got the Rat Catcher to place bombs on the floor above us in the building we were in, unknowingly to me. I was about to destroy the Master, and when the bloody bombs went off, the rubble fell between myself and the Beast, who used the diversion to flee! _Bloody coward_!" He gives a half-hearted growl. I know he wants to growl fully, but my fingernails on his head are preventing that.

"Oh dear. That's not good." I say, nuzzling his left cheek with mine. "No wonder you're pissed."

"I am not pissed; I am _fucking furious_." Yeah, I can tell. Quinlan generally doesn't swear so much unless he's in a really pissed off mood, and normally he swears in Latin. It's unusual that he's doing so in English.

"Don't worry, _Magnus frater,_ you'll get the opportunity to defeat him again. I know it." I nuzzle his cheek again, before giving it another peck.

"I hope so, _Parvulus. _I really hope so." He purrs against my neck, and kisses it.

"On another note: did you find Gus yet?" I ask, changing the subject slightly.

"Gus?" He sounds confused at first. "You mean Augustin Elizalde?"

"Yeah. He prefers Gus though."

"Not yet. I tried looking for him, but could not find him, so I came here." He says, still holding onto me tightly. Quinlan's only ever affectionate like this to me, but it took him to be affectionate towards me about a year or so after we met. To everyone else, my big brother is cold hearted. He actually isn't; he feels emotions much more strongly than even humans, he just chooses to seem cold hearted. Basically the big, bad, Strigoi hunter is a big, cuddly, teddy bear...at least, he is to me.

"Awww, you just wanted cuddles from the annoying little sister you never wanted." I jest. I feel him going tense at my words before he pulls his head back to look me right in the eyes.

"You are most definitely _not_ the 'annoying little sister I never wanted'!" He scolds. "You are the loving, caring, _most cuddly_ little sister I have _always_ wanted! And do not forget it!" I can't help but give a massive smile at that. I'd have tears in my eyes if I could physically cry.

"Yes, General." I reply, giving him a salute, and he smiles back at me, then leans in, and gives me a peck on the lips. After a few moments more, he reluctantly pulls away from me, and I pout at him.

"I am sorry, _Parvulus._ But I need to go find Mister Elizalde now." He leans in again, gives me another peck on the lips, and rests his forehead against mine and nuzzles it affectionately while purring loudly.

"Humph!" I reply. He chuckles at me pouting.

"I will be back, I promise." He cups my face between his hands, and kisses me on the forehead, before turning on his heel and going back the way he came.

"Stay safe!" I call after him. He whirls around, and walks backwards.

"Always!"

"Love you, brother!"

"I love you too, sister!" With that, he turns back around, and walks out of the corridor and my line of sight. Several minutes pass before my father comes to relieve me of corridor duty, and tells me to go feed.

I go back to the smaller chamber that houses the captive humans, and pick one out at random; a tall, stocky male, who tries to fight me, but after the fight I had earlier with the girl, I punch him in the face and drag him out of the room, then I bring him into the incinerator room and drain him.

Once I feed, the Ancients let me have the rest of the night off, but I don't know what to do. I sigh as I make my way to another corridor, go around several twists and turns until I get to the area which houses rooms for human Sun Hunters to use, and go into the one with the painted white Roman Numeral 'XVI' on the door. It's one of the only rooms off limits to human Sun Hunters in this area, as it's basically my bedroom, though I prefer to sleep in the Chamber of the Sun Hunters with the others. Sleeping with other strigoi is quite comforting.

I sit on the bed and pull out my very battered first edition, autographed copy of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum, who autographed it for me back in 1902. I've just restarted the part where Dorothy, Toto and the Scarecrow meet the Tin Woodman, Nick Chopper, for the first time. I don't care that the Oz books are aimed at children; I really love them, and L. Frank Baum is one of my favourite authors.

Unsurprisingly, my favourite book is Dracula by Bram Stoker, also autographed. I was tempted to tell him that I was a vampire, but we're forbidden from telling humans about our existence. Pity though, as I'm sure Mister Stoker would've been impressed to know that vampires are real.

While reading my book, I listen to my creator sing in Its sleep. I smile and absentmindedly hum along. While I know the words to Their songs, I don't know what the words mean, as they're not in any language I speak. I know the language is Enochian though: the language of the Angels. The Old Ones come from the oldest Archangel in existence: Ozryel, the Angel of Death, and it's through Him that the Ancients know Enochian.

The Ancients like to sing every so often, but my creator does it the most. I'm not sure if They do it as a lullaby for Themselves, or if it's a lullaby for us. All I know is it's very comforting, and helps me sleep. Speaking of sleeping; the alarm on my phone goes off to remind me that the sun will rise in about thirty minutes.

I close my book, now The Marvellous Land of Oz, set it back on the nightstand and make my way to the Chamber of the Ancients, where I return my affections I gave Them when I woke up and continue to the Chamber of the Sun Hunters.

As soon as I walk into the chamber, which only has five of us at the moment, I spot my big brother again, lying naked on the pallet I share with Lar and my father. I grin as I go over to him and strip everything off, before lying beside him and snuggle up to him under the blanket. He wraps both his arms around me without opening his ice blue eyes and pulls me towards him, slipping his bare, left thigh in between mine and I hook my leg over his left thigh again, wrapping my right arm around his back and put my left hand on his chest. I put my face up against the incredibly sensitive swirls on his neck.

"Did you find Gus?" I ask, relaxing in his hold.

"No, he was not at his home, but I followed his scent to a restaurant near to his home." He replies, resting his chin on top my head. "I will try again after the sun sets." He yawns. Quinlan generally doesn't need as much sleep as humans or Strigoi, but I can tell he's exhausted so I know he'll sleep from sunrise to sunset just like the rest of us.

I hear footsteps approaching us and in a few minutes my father slips in behind me, wrapping his arm around both myself and Quinlan and I hear Lar slip in behind him, wrapping his arm around my father and resting his hand on my hip. Not long after that, the chamber fills up with the rest of our nest, and it's as if Quinlan never left us. I smile at the thought, pulling my right arm from around his back, reaching up and playing with his pointed left ear again...I like to play with ears and do so with mine all the time; been doing it all my life. The entire chamber is now filled with quiet purrs and rattles.

After saying our good nights, the four of us fall asleep together, just like we used to do before Quinlan decided to leave us...again. Everyone in the chamber falls asleep listening to all three Old Ones singing. Just a shame that Quinlan can't hear Them; I know he'd love Their songs, as he loves it when I repeat the songs for him. I don't do it now because I'm too tired.

)*( )*( )*( )*( )*(

The entire nest wakes up at sunset and gets dressed, all except myself and Quinlan. I tighten my grip on him when he tries to get up and groan in annoyance. He chuckles at me, but lies back down again, wraps both his arms around me and pulls me closer to him, kissing me on the top of my head. I snuggle against his neck and purr. I hear an exasperated sigh from above us but I don't need to look up to know it's my father.

"Five more minutes." I murmur to both of them. My father grumbles something incoherent and walks away. Grabbing onto Quinlan tighter, I roll us both until he's lying on his back with me on top of him, lying on his chest, which shakes with quiet laughter. I have to admit: my brother is far more comfortable to lie on than the blanket covered floor. He pulls the blanket over both of us before he wraps his arms back around me tightly, and both of us purr. I nuzzle the side of my cheek against his chest.

"I missed you, _Stórr Bróðir_." I say to him. "So much."

"As I missed you, _Parva Soror_." He replies, moving to cup his left hand on the back of my head. I feel his thumb stroke the bare skin on my head, which makes me purr louder. His right hand rubs gentle circles on my back. I snuggle closer to him and he holds me even tighter. Good thing I don't breathe anymore. I'm half tempted to fall back to sleep in my comfortable spot on top of Quinlan, but my creator puts a stop to it.

_**Time to get up now, child.**_ I can't help the groan I make. _**You have had ten minutes. Up now, please.**_

_**Yes, my Lord. **_I reply back.

"What happened?" Quinlan asks, his grip still tight around me. I look up and find him looking down at me.

"My creator told me I have to get up now as we've had ten extra minutes." I stick my lower lip out in a significant pout which makes my brother chuckle deeply. He reluctantly loosens his grip on me until his arms fall at his sides. I groan again, and nuzzle his chest again. I love being cuddled, especially by Quinlan. I refuse to get off him, so he grabs onto me again, and rolls us both to the side. I huff and growl quietly at him, but he just laughs at me.

"Not funny." I tell him, rattling my stinger in annoyance. He just laughs again, before giving me a gentle swat on the backside.

"Time to get up now, _Parva Soror_." He says, sitting up.

"Uh uh." I say, shaking my head and grabbing onto his waist. He gently, but firmly, pulls my arms from around him, and pulls me into a sitting position. I whine at him and quickly crawl onto his lap, being careful to stay away from his crotch. Unlike full Strigoi, Quinlan actually has genitals, so I sit on his lap several inches away but I'm still close enough to throw my arms around his neck.

"Last hug!" I say. He rolls his eyes at my childish behaviour, but he puts his arms around me and pulls me closer. I go up on my knees to avoid his crotch and shuffle closer. It is a bit of a shame that Quinlan has genitals; I can never get close to him without accidentally touching him there. And I prefer naked cuddles to fully clothed cuddles, but I work around those parts of him. The good thing about being up on my knees is I'm now tall enough to be his exact height and I bury my face in the hollow of his neck. Barefoot, I stand at a grand total of five foot five inches, whereas Quinlan's around six foot two inches. Standing up, my head reaches his collarbone.

I move my face away from his neck and kiss it before pulling back and raising my head to peck him on the lips. I climb off him and start getting dressed. Quinlan gets up and does the same; he's dressed before I am, but he helps me load all my weapons onto my person, stopping occasionally to admire a blade or a gun. Instantly my childishness disappears, and I become a soldier once more. Quinlan was the one to teach me to be a soldier, what with being a General in the Roman Army and all that. With Quinlan's help, it doesn't take me long to get dressed, and we walk out of the Chamber of the Sun Hunters hand in hand.

"Are you going to talk to Gus tonight?" I ask as we make our way to the Chamber of the Ancients.

"Yes." He says, pulling me closer and wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "Would the Old Ones mind if I fed on one of the humans here? I'll replace it."

_**Tell Quintus he is free to feed here. **_The Ancients reply.

"They say to feel free." I tell him. At that moment, we enter the Chamber of the Ancients. As we walk around Them, Quinlan addresses Them.

"Thank you for the human." Wow, one of the very few times he's actually been respectful to the Old Ones. They incline Their heads in his direction, and he lets go of me and makes his way to the small chamber where the humans are caged. I stay behind for orders, but I kiss the Ancients while I wait. I don't have to wait long before my father spots me.

"Freya, you, Ezra, Killian, Guillermo and Lucian are to hunt unclean from here to the Empire State Building until midnight. From midnight until an hour before sunrise, you are to hunt unclean in Brooklyn, from just before the barrier the humans put up in Red Hook, all around the Bay Ridge area. Do not go farther than Prospect Park." My father says. Great, I'm in a team with Ezra. Joy. So much sarcasm, it hurts. Ezra and I have never really seen eye to eye, and it's strange that my father would put us in the same team. The Ancients normally keep us apart.

Basically Ezra is a pompous little shitstain, and I have to fight tooth and nail not to use him as target practice for my guns...I don't think anyone actually likes Ezra. He has good combat skills though, which is why the Old Ones let him turn. I think he hates me because I'm the better fighter. What can I say, I learned from Quinlan, Ezra did not. I suddenly notice where my father told us not to go farther than in Brooklyn. Ooh, we get to hunt near Park Slope where Doctor Nora Martinez lives. I wonder if we'll bump into her again, though I sincerely hope not because of the unclean.

"Lar, you, Tobias, Arturo, Draven and I will hunt unclean from the Upper East Side to Harlem until midnight. From midnight to an hour before sunrise, we are to hunt unclean in Queens. Start at JFK Airport and work our way to the top." My father continues. I wish I was on his team and spend the extra time with Quinlan, who will be going to Harlem to find Gus. "Bongani, Kofi, Yusuf, Samir and Gideon, you stay here and guard the Ancients. Petyr, Tobias, Gabriel, Raphael, Michael, Cassius, Mohammed, Enrique, Mauricio, Jacob and Nathaniel, you have guard duty outside." With that, we all gather in our respective teams and head on out. Quinlan joins the group of twenty-one of us as we're going down the corridor. I lag behind to talk to him, but my team are at the front of the group. I keep my voice down.

"I have to hunt unclean with _Ezra_!" I whisper low enough so the pompous shitstain doesn't hear me. Quinlan's upper lip curls up at the corner at that.

"Try not to kill him, _Parvulus_." He says in an equally low whisper.

"No promises." I reply, which causes him let out a loud bark of laughter. Several Sun Hunters turn back to look at us, but they don't say anything.

We continue our journey out of the compound and Quinlan and I part ways once we get to the SUVs. We give each other a parting peck on the lips before we part. My team and I climb into one SUV, while Quinlan climbs into an SUV with the other team. They'll drop him off at the Upper East Side, and he'll make his own way to Harlem and Gus.

It's a long night hunting unclean, and we stop off at our various storage units scattered around the city to top up on ammunition, then go back into the fray. I'm impressed with the barrier the humans put up around Red Hook in Brooklyn, and we don't bump into Doctor Martinez. By the time we head back to the nest an hour before sunrise, I have counted twenty separate times where I came very close to shooting Ezra because he was being an asshole, and almost got us killed at least five times! If it wasn't for my creator telling me no, then I would have shot him at least once. Thankfully Ezra and I do not share a creator; his is the one that is on the right if one is facing the Ancients.

I make it back to the Chamber of the Sun Hunters first, and by the time it takes me to undress and become unarmed, my father has joined me. It's only the two of us in the Chamber, and I round on him.

"_Never_ team me up with Ezra again!" I growl at him. "That shithead almost got us killed several times!" My father's eyes go wide, but his face goes into a scowl. The burns on his face still look pretty raw from being burned by the UV lights in Eldritch Palmer's penthouse in the Stoneheart building a few days ago. I go on to recount exactly what happened, and his frown deepens. I hear an echoing growl inside my head from our creator, who's clearly annoyed at Ezra.

"Alright, _Dýrr Einn_." My father says once I finally run out of steam. Thankfully only Lar, Gabriel and the twins: Bongani and Kofi, are in the Chamber with us by the time I finish telling my story. And they growl when they hear what happened. They definitely don't like Ezra either. "I won't ever team you up with Ezra again." I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, _Faðir_." I say, before snuggling back down on the thick pallet and pulling the blanket up. My father and Lar lay down on either side of me, and I cuddle into my father. My right hand reaches up to play with my father's ear, while both his arms wrap around me from the front, and Lar's wrap around me from behind. Quinlan never came back from finding Gus...I hope nothing bad has happened to him. I fall asleep before the Chamber is even half full.

_**A/N:**_** I hope this was okay? I was debating on whether to go into detail about how Ezra almost got Freya's team killed a few times, but I wracked my brains to figure out, but couldn't come up with anything. Sorry. If I figure it out, I'll either put it in a flashback scene, or maybe do it as a one shot story. **

**I wasn't originally going to mention Quinlan's anatomy in most of my fics (if I get around to writing a romance fic with him and an OFC, then yes), but I thought I'd just put it in there LOL XD Quinlan DOES have a penis and testicles in ALL of my fics (Google Roman history and it'll tell you that Quinlan would NOT have lived the life he did if he didn't have genitals. Just FYI. If other people don't want him to have male body parts in their fic(s), that's entirely up to them, but he most definitely does in ALL OF MINE). **

**Regarding the song by Bolivar: It's most definitely a song on the show: it's played several times throughout the seasons (pretty sure season 3 is the only time we never hear it). It is called "Ladykiller" but it's by Jet Set Satellite :D I've had it on my phone now for almost a year, and it's really good.**

**I wracked my brains when doing **_**The Vampire And The Doctor**_** to come up with more names for my Sun Hunters (and I'm well aware that there's at least twice more Sun Hunters in my fic as in canon: four died with Vaun {that was five so far}, and I think five died with the Ancients in 3x8: White Light, including Lar {so ten altogether}, but I wanted around twice more to guard the outside as well as the inside). Because I couldn't be bothered to make up more Sun Hunter names, the Sun Hunters in this fic will be in other fics not related to this one (Petyr, Tobias and Jacob were in **_**The Ancient**_**, and it has nothing to do with this fic LOL). It's hard coming up with names for Sun Hunters, especially when you want them to have badassed names. And I HAD to have one called Guillermo XD**

_**Translations:**_

_**Magnus Frater - **_**Big Brother (Latin)**

_**Parvulus - **_**Little One/Child (Latin. Quinlan's saying Little One)**

_**Stórr Bróðir**_** \- Big Brother (Old Norse)**

_**Parva Soror**_** \- Little Sister (Latin)**

_**Dýrr Einn**_** \- Dear One (Old Norse)**

_**Faðir**_** \- Father (Old Norse)**


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N:**_** Well here it is, chapter 4. This chapter has betrayal and hurt in it. I'm not sure if this chapter makes any sense, as I just put my fingers to the keys of my keyboard, and they dance away at the keys to make words. Translation: I rarely plan out a chapter (though I have done for at least three future chapters to this story, one if which will be coming soon :D) Anywho, on to chapter 4.**

_**Chapter 4**_

Three days. Three more days pass and the situation in New York City has become even more dire. The number of unclean has now reached around a million in New York City alone and it's not yet two weeks since that fucking plane landed. It's gotten to the point now where the Ancients don't send us out hunting the unclean anymore; now we only go out to hunt humans. We try to bring back at least five of them for the Old Ones, and we Sun Hunters feed outside now.

Humans in America never knew that Strigoi existed until the Young One showed up here almost two weeks ago. The six Ancients had a massive disagreement in 1600 and three of Them broke away; our half of the Ancients lived in Italy, while the other half lived in Russia...until the New World opened up and our half made for the Americas in 1634. For three hundred and eighty years, humans here were unaware of our existence, but now they all know, and I highly doubt it's just the population of New York City. Word has most likely spread to the rest of the world by now, but the humans don't know about us Sun Hunters or the three New World Ancients...there's a very good chance they don't even know about the Master. I know that there have been sightings of unclean in other parts of New York, and in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Vermont and even Rhode Island, and there have been rumours that they've also gotten to Toronto, Ontario and Quebec in Canada. I overheard a few humans saying that there are unclean in New Hampshire and Maine, even as far as Delaware. I'm hoping those last three places are just rumours though.

Before Quinlan came here from his almost fifty year absence, a councilwoman from Staten Island, called Justine Feraldo, managed to clear Staten Island of unclean, and has managed to establish a foothold in Brooklyn in Red Hook. There was apparently a standoff in Red Hook two nights ago between Feraldo's Police Officers, with the help of some of the citizens of Red Hook, and the Strigoi; the humans won that fight. I wanted to go to Red Hook when I was in Brooklyn two nights ago to help, but the Old Ones forbade it, saying that the humans didn't need our help and they would most likely have attacked us too, so I went back to clearing out unclean from nearby instead. That was the last time we hunted the unclean. Last night, and tonight, have been spent either guarding the Ancients, or guarding the compound. I left the compound earlier tonight to hunt a human for myself not far from here, but I've been inside on guard duty for the Ancients after training with a few of my brothers. True to his word, my father has kept Ezra away from me, even all three of the Ancients have kept Ezra and I apart. For the past three days Ezra and I have had different sleeping schedules; one of us sleeps, while the other does guard duty, then we rotate about halfway through the day.

Like I said, we rarely go outside anymore, except to hunt for either ourselves or the Old Ones, but we did lose one team of my brothers last night: Mohammed, Gideon, Arturo, Cassius and Tobias were killed by unclean when they were near Tribeca hunting humans for the Ancients. We had to wait until around ninety minutes before sunrise before we were able to recover the bodies, as the unclean were around until then. No doubt they were waiting to see if they could follow us back to the compound and the Ancients. We spent all day incinerating the bodies. It's been a very sombre night in the nest. Mohammed and Cassius were my actual brothers, meaning we shared the same Ancient. Tobias and Arturo came from the Ancient on the right...if one was facing the Old Ones that is, and Gideon came from the Ancient on the left.

Quinlan came back to the nest just after sunset to tell the Ancients that the pawnbroker, Professor Setrakian, had located an ancient book called the _Occido Lumen_ which will be going on auction tomorrow and that the Professor needed the Ancients to back him with gold to purchase it. The Old Ones reluctantly agreed to let the human have access to one of Their bank accounts in Switzerland, and after Quinlan got the account details from the Ancients, he left. He did stop for a few minutes for more cuddles from me, which he prefers to get without the others of the nest watching. He's not very big on public displays of affection. He also said that he managed to find Gus, has re-recruited him, who then recruited twenty inmates that he freed from prison along with an older man Gus calls _Á__ngel de la plata_: Silver Angel. Quinlan isn't quite sure why Gus calls his friend the Silver Angel, he just knows the man's real name is Angel Guzman Hurtado. Quinlan also told me that he is staying in a large building near Central Park, but didn't say exactly where. I'm guessing he doesn't want the Ancients to know precisely where he is.

It's now just gone past eleven at night, and the Ancients have given me leave to do whatever I want except leave the compound. I reassure Them that I have no desires to go outside the compound, then make my way back to my room to listen to music for a little while. I'm listening to "Made Of Stone" by Evanescence when Lar joins me.

"Mind if I come in?" He asks, standing uncertainly in the open doorway.

"Of course not." I reply, bending my knees so he can sit on the bed. He closes the door behind him before crossing the room, and sitting on the bottom of the bed just where my legs were. I sit up properly on the bed. A few minutes of silence pass before I break it. "What's wrong?"

"Just thinking." Lar says. I know what's wrong with him though: he, Tobias and Arturo shared the Ancient on the right, so he's upset that two of his brothers are dead. I sort of know the feeling; I lost three actual brothers, plus two other brothers. I say nothing, but shuffle closer to my little brother on the bed and throw my arms around his waist tightly. A couple of heartbeats pass before Lar puts his arms around me, holds me tightly and whimpers quietly into my neck.

What a lot of people don't know is that Tobias and Lar are biologically brothers, just like the twins, Bongani and Kofi. Tobias was older than Lar by two years. I was never as close to Tobias as I am with Lar, I think that has something to do with the fact that Lar and I were the same age when we were turned: twenty-three, which is possibly why the two of us are also close to Raphael and Gabriel as they were also turned at twenty-three. I think we don't get along with Ezra because, not only is he a pompous little shitstain, but because he was almost seventeen when he was turned. Michael may be the newest Sun Hunter, but Ezra is the youngest human the Ancients let turn. All the Sun Hunters that are biologically related are myself and my father, Lar and Tobias, identical twins Bongani and Kofi, Enrique and Arturo who were cousins, and Draven and Gabriel who are also brothers. The rest aren't biologically related except sharing Ancients. We're all siblings to each other, but my father will always be my father to me, not my brother. Quinlan is our adopted brother, but I like to think of him as my biological brother, even though he's over eight hundred years older than me.

I don't know how long Lar and I hold each other for, but the whole time we do, I gently rock us from side to side. Eventually Lar pulls away from me, but puts his head in my lap, and I stroke his cheek. Unfortunately, there's nothing much I can do to comfort him. I did hold him all day today when we slept, instead of holding my father, and that seems to have helped a little bit. I'll end up holding onto him during the day for the next month or so. Lar spends the rest of the night either wandering around the compound seeming lost, or he spends time with me either dozing or getting cuddled. He tells me that when he's with people he wants to be alone, but when he's alone he wants company. Enrique is sort of acting the same way, except when he's with company he's either biting everyone's heads off, or he's training. Enrique's "training" method has gotten brutal, and I'm glad I'm not the one sparring with him; I'd probably end up breaking his nose on purpose. Lar doesn't seem to have the energy for sparring.

When we end up in the Chamber of the Sun Hunters for the day, I turn around and cuddle Lar, who buries his face into my neck. Pressing your face against the neck of another Strigoi signifies one of two things: You're either submitting to the other's dominance, or you're seeking comfort. When I snuggle into the neck of one of my brothers, I'm doing it for comfort. When I snuggle into my father's neck, or Quinlan's neck, I'm doing it both as submitting to their dominance _and_ for comfort. I rub Lar's back gently, which makes him purr loudly against my throat, and it's not long before we all fall asleep.

)*( )*( )*( )*( )*(

I wake up the next night just after sunset and remember that we're supposed to be getting our hands on the _Occido Lumen _tonight. Finally, after three hundred and forty-seven years, we'll (hopefully) have our hands on the _Lumen_ (gloved hands of course, because the _Silver Codex_ is said to be bound in silver, hence the nickname: _Silver Codex_). Professor Abraham Setrakian is attending an auction, so we'll see if we get the book, hopefully we do. The Old Ones are still debating on what to do with the book: the Ancient on the left (if one was facing the Ancients) wants to destroy it, the Ancient on the right wants to put it away in one of the many vaults beneath us and my creator wants to use it to destroy the Young One. I'm all for using it to destroy the Master, not because it was my creator who suggested it, but because it's the most practical thing to do.

Once dressed, the Old Ones send half the nest out to the banks of East Manhattan to see if we can find where abouts the Professor will be coming back from Roosevelt Island, I'm one of those tasked with this. We're to provide an escort to bring the tome to Lower Manhattan. We're not waiting long before we hear a very loud explosion, not from the island, but coming from not that far behind us. We turn and see a large fireball and about a hundred unclean.

"The pawnbroker?" I ask.

"Probably." My father replies. He turns to address the rest of the group. "Let's go!" We hurry to the commotion and see a bunch of humans in the midst of the unclean; several humans manage to run away from the large group of unclean, but most get attacked. I'm at the back of the group and about the join the others when the breeze hits me from behind. I stop and I turn my head around and pull in a very familiar scent. The others are too far ahead of me, about to massacre the unclean strigoi.

_**Quinlan!**_ I project to the group of Sun Hunters. _**I smell Quinlan!**_ The entire group halts and turns to me and I sprint in the other direction, following the scent of old leather, metal, gun powder, rain, earth and sunlight. Quinlan's scent is very unique...just like himself; the rain, earth and sunlight smells are his own unique scent, and its mixed in with the old leather of his sword harness, the metal from his sword and the gun powder from his Uzis. I reach the bank of the river again, around a mile or so from where we were originally, and in the distance I see a boat chugging along the river. Just as the rest of the group catch up to me, I catch sight of a familiar figure dressed in a long black coat at the stern of the boat.

"QUINLAN!" I yell as loud as I can, which is pretty loud. "_QUINLAN!_" The figure turns to me and I can just make out his face in the passing light; he doesn't look happy to see us. _Wait, what? _I watch as he continues to just stand there instead of going inside and telling the humans to pull the boat in. I wait to hear if he's going to tell us where to meet him, but his mouth is closed; by the lights I can see that his jaws look clenched shut. We watch as he finally goes inside. _Oh good._ I think to myself. _He's getting them to pull the boat in._ Instead, we watch as the boat speeds away faster.

"That motherfucking _traitor_!" Draven yells, just as the boat disappears completely. My instincts make me hiss at Draven, but he growls in response. I go to snarl back at him, but the Old Ones choose that moment to shriek loudly in our heads, and the pain is worse than when They shrieked when Quinlan came back from his almost fifty year absence. The word traitor is thrown around several times, before They order us back to the compound. We traipse back to the cars with bleeding ears and noses and drive back to the compound. I'm lost in my own thoughts, completely in denial about my big brother betraying us. I feel blood continue to trickle from my ears and nose, but don't try to do anything to stop the flow, and I also have the mother of all migraines.

Once back in the safety of our home, we find that, not only are the Ancients wide awake, but They're prowling around Their chamber, still shrieking Their heads off. I look around the chamber and see that there's significant damage done to two of the walls. Lar, who remained behind with the Old Ones, informs us that the Ancients were that angry by Quinlan's ultimate betrayal, They punched the walls in several places.

"Maybe he's laying low?" I speak up, my voice so quiet and timid that it completely shocks everyone in the chamber, including myself. "Maybe he'll be back with the book later?"

"Are you a _complete_ bloody idiot?!" Ezra speaks up in his annoyingly snobbish English accent. Ezra's English accent is more snobby than Quinlan's, but, unlike Quinlan's, Ezra's voice has a habit of grating on my nerves. It's just one of those voices. Quinlan's voice, on the other hand, is soothing. "Of _course_ he won't be back, you buffoon! He _stole _the bloody book!" I snarl at the pompous little shitstain, and I notice that I'm not the only one; the majority of the nest, including all three Ancients, snarl at Ezra as well. Everyone knows that if you say anything bad to me, you get the rest of the nest angry, including the Ancients...They've always had a soft spot for me. Ezra's completely shocked by his own creator snarling at him.

"YOU LEAVE HER ALONE, YOU FUCKING SHITHEAD!" Lar yells at Ezra, who cowers away from him...but only momentarily.

"Why do all you lot have such a soft spot for this _idiotic_ woman?!" Ezra demands, pointing right at my snarling face. Unfortunately, for Ezra at least, my creator just happens to have stopped prowling directly behind him, and It picks Ezra up by the back of his vest one handed, turns him around, and roars loudly in the pompous shithead's face. This time, Ezra stays cowered, and once my creator has dropped him back onto the floor, he falls to his knees at my creator's clawed feet and keeps lowering himself until his forehead touches the blood covered concrete floor, careful to keep the back of his neck uncovered in surrender.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He says in a pitiful and fearful tone.

_**It is not I you need to apologise to, Ezra. It is Freya you owe an apology to.**_ My creator tells him, while still snarling at him. Ezra turns his lowered head towards me, red blood on his forehead.

"I'm sorry, sister. I truly am." He says. I walk towards him slowly.

"I accept your apology, little brother." I say to him. "But please stop being an asshole to me." I walk to my creator at this, who gently picks me up, and nuzzles my forehead with Its own and I nuzzle It back while putting my arms around Its neck. We purr loudly at each other. Ezra watches the exchange, but says nothing. Once my creator puts me back down, Ezra whimpers and scuttles off to his own creator, who says and does nothing. The whole nest knows that his creator is in agreement with mine, which is why nothing is said or done. My creator tells Ezra that he's on outside guard duty, while I've been given the night off. I decide to spend the rest of the night in my room, but give the Ancients a hug and a kiss before I leave.

It's an entire week later before Quinlan decides to show his face in the compound again, and none of the nest is happy to see him, least of all the Old Ones.

)*( )*( )*( )*( )*(

A week after my big brother betrayed the nest, he comes back. Ezra has been kept away from me the whole time: he's currently outside on guard duty, whereas I'm on guard duty inside the Chamber of the Ancients.

Familiar footsteps echo down the corridor, and I look up to see Quinlan confidently striding towards me. I feel two differed things when I see him: on the one hand, I'm glad to see him again, but, on the other hand, I feel personally betrayed by him, especially as he ignored me last week when I saw him on that fucking boat. But, mostly I'm angry at him. I'm standing right at the mouth of the chamber, and he smiles when he notices me, but I don't smile back at him. He notices this, and his smile is instantly wiped off his face, and I see hurt in his eyes. _Huh! __**He's**__ hurt?! He has a right cheek to feel hurt._ I frown at him, and his footsteps falter slightly; he's no longer as confident, but he keeps walking towards me. I finally shake myself out of my surprise at seeing him when he's about ten feet in front of me, and I move away to stand beside my creator. I see the hurt expression on his face when I look up.

_**I don't want to talk to him. **_I project to everyone in the room.

_**I will speak to him instead, sister. **_Lar pipes up.

_**Thank you, bróðir. **_I say.

_**Einnhverr tími. **_He replies.

The Old Ones growl and twitch angrily at him, which gets his attention, and he stops just as he reaches the edge of the circle of blood on the floor. Lar, Petyr, Bongani and Kofi are in the room with me also, and Lar steps forwards.

"I speak for Them today, Born." He practically growls at our adoptive brother. Lar normally calls Quinlan by his name, but we all feel deeply betrayed by him. Quinlan raises a hairless brow at his little brother calling him Born, but says nothing of the change. He knows he deserves it.

"I don't care who speaks, as long as They do the listening." He says to Lar instead. The Ancients twitch even more, and They're trying Their best not to yell so loud. I watch as Quinlan walks around Lar, and goes up to the Ancient on his right. Lar follows his movements, but doesn't move from his spot on the floor.

"We are surprised to see you." Lar says for the Old Ones. Quinlan turns his head to the left at Lar's words, then turns back to the Ancient on his right while he speaks. Good to know he's ignoring me for the time being.

"You think me a traitor...because, for the moment, I have thrown my lot in with the cattle. But you should know better than anyone; I have no allegiances, only an enemy." He says the last three words after he turns his head back to Lar again. I sink my sharp, pointed teeth into my tongue to keep from speaking, but I fail.

"And yet, you wear the symbol of the _Sun Hunters_." I speak up. Quinlan's head whips around to me, and he opens his mouth, but I cut him off before he has a chance to say a single word. "You wear the Ouroboros of the _Ancients_ on your coat. It may be smaller than ours, but you still _wear_ it!" I point to the small, red Ouroboros in the shape of a dragon devouring its own tail, on the left side of his coat, about an inch away from the left strap of his leather sword harness. Quinlan looks down at the symbol in question, and I know he's thinking about the time I convinced the Old Ones to let him wear it. He goes to answer me, but Lar cuts him off.

"Is that how you justify your thievery?!" The Ancients ask through Lar. Quinlan answers while heading towards my creator...and myself. I scurry off to the Ancient on my right, his left, and stand on the far end. He's hurt when he sees it, but continues on talking and walking.

"I'm taking action. Unlike you, who lurk in your chamber, paralysed by a truce that has lasted centuries and has now been broken." He stops in front of my creator. He pauses, then takes another step forwards to address the Old One in front of him. "You have grown indolent." He says in an almost whisper. Which makes all three of the Ancients shriek mentally, but They try not to hurt us. He keeps his eyes on my creator, and I use that opportunity to walk around Lar and to the far side of the other Ancient that Quinlan left. "What became of the Ancients from the Old World? The rest of the Seven?" He continues at a normal volume.

"We have not had any contact with Them." Is his answer. Quinlan turns away from my creator as he's talking, and walks to the Ancient I just left.

"My guess is that He destroyed Them before coming to the New World." I know that he's noticed I've moved away from him again, and he turns his head around to the first Ancient he addressed and spots me there. I see the hurt in his eyes, and I show him the hurt in mine. I see him swallow thickly, before turning back to the last Ancient, and continues walking closer to It while talking. "And now He's come here to finish the job." He stops before the last Ancient before continuing. "Setrakian may be a thief, but he's a fighter. Which is more than can be said for the lot of you." That statement causes the Old Ones to growl loudly at Quinlan.

_**INSOLENCE! **_The Ancient beside me shouts.

_**TREACHERY! **_The Ancient Quinlan's in front of shouts.

_**What's happened?**_ I hear my father ask. He, Draven, Killian and Guillermo are out hunting for the Old Ones.

_**Quinlan has come back to the nest. **_I reply dryly. I feel the shock of my father and three brothers.

_**COMPLETELY DISRESPECTFUL!**_ My creator shouts about Quinlan. I can feel a headache coming on. _**We want to know what you have learned from the **_**Lumen**_**.**_ It says more quietly.

"We want to know what you've learned from the _Lumen_." Lar repeats. Quinlan turned around to face Lar when my little brother started talking. Quinlan walks towards him before answering; he raises his left index finger as he speaks, and turns to the Ancient he was first in front of, but I already moved back to my creator while he was walking to Lar.

"Of course You do." He puts his hand down, and looks fully at the first Ancient, frowning when he noticed I've moved again. "You want to know if our search for the Master's demise might also bring about _Your_ demise as well." He turns twice, once towards my creator...more specifically me, then again to look at the first Ancient. He turns his head back to my creator, and glances at me before continuing, head inclining to the left as he speaks. "The book is not yet deciphered." Lar turns all the way around to look at the back of Quinlan's head, then walks up behind him. "We still have much work to do." He finishes. Lar is only about two feet behind Quinlan's left shoulder.

_**You **__**will share**__** with Us what you have **__**found**__**! **_All three Old Ones demand.

"You _will share_ with Us what you have _found_!" Lar repeats angrily. Lar and Quinlan normally get along, but what the latter did a week ago, has pissed the former off. Quinlan's head turns to Lar before he speaks.

"You would be wise _not_ to threaten me; Your _only_ ally in this war!" Quinlan says sternly. His head turns back to my creator. "I am _not_ Your _servant_!" He says with equal sternness. He turns to the Ancient on his right again. "I am Your _best hope_." The he turns he head back to my creator as he speaks again, a bit softer. "Fortunately for You, Your enemy and mine...is the _same_." The Old Ones twitch at that.

Before I have time to register, or react, Quinlan sprints to me in a blur. He's obviously done with talking to the Ancients.

"May we speak privately?" He asks me softly, once he's only about a foot away from me.

"No." I reply, looking up...but I only make it to the swirls on his throat. "Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of everyone in this chamber." For the first time since he came back to the nest over two weeks ago, I see him twitch. It's a rare thing when he does that; he has more control over the Strigoi twitches than anyone else.

"I am sorry, _Parva Soror_." He says, still in a soft voice. He reaches out, and caresses the left side of my face with his gloved hand before I can stop him. I instinctively lean into his touch while closing my eyes.

_**FREYA!**_ Lar shouts in my head, making me jump and I come back to my senses. I pull away from Quinlan's touch, eyes flying open.

"Go away, Quinlan." I say to him, stepping backwards until the backs of my legs touches my creator's legs, and my back is against Its abdomen. It's uncrosses Its arms, and wraps them around my shoulders. I reach up, and put my hands on Its arms. "It's what you're good at." I continue. I can actually see his heart breaking, but he broke mine first. For the first time in centuries, I wish I could cry.

He takes a step towards me, but my creator growls viciously at him, and he stops dead in his tracks. I see tears welling up in his pale blue eyes, and he knows he's royally fucked up.

"You heard her." Lar says, speaking as himself, not the Old Ones. Quinlan looks at me for several heartbeats, then he straightens his back, turns on his heal and walks away. I see him ever so slightly stumble, and my heart breaks even more. Lar, Petyr, Bongani and Kofi all watch as he walks down the corridor to the exit. I wait until I can't hear his footsteps anymore, before I turn to my creator, and whimper. It lets go of my shoulders, then reaches down, picks me up, and holds me to It. I wrap all four limps around It, and bury my face in Its neck.

It's not long after that before my father and his team come back with a couple of humans, which Draven, Killian and Guillermo put away in their cage. I've been in my creator's arms since It pulled me up, but It gently peels me off, and hands me to my father. I wrap all four of my limbs around him too, bury my face in his neck, and whimper. Whimpering is the closest I can get to crying.

"It's alright, _Dýrr Einn_." My father says in a soothing voice. "I'm here." He gently sways from side to side to sooth me.

"I want him to come back!" I wail. "I want him to come back!" I sob dryly, tightening my grip on him.

"He's long gone, _Dýrr Einn_." He says, tightening his grip on me as well. I sob louder at his statement. I really wish I could cry. The Old Ones whimper too; they hate it when we hurt. I feel our brothers in the chamber crowd around us, and they each put a hand on me to try and soothe me.

_**Take her to her room, Vaun.**_ Our creator says. _**Stay with her.**_ And with that, he turns around and leaves the Chamber of the Ancients. We spend the rest of the night in my room, and only leave it to go back to the Chamber of the Sun Hunters to sleep. Lar and my father hold me tightly until I fall asleep to the Old Ones singing a special song in Enochian to help me sleep.

)*( )*( )*( )*( )*(

I bump into Quinlan the next night near Central Park while I'm out hunting for myself. The others I went out with are hunting in the Park itself. We stand there awkwardly, neither of us looking at the other, until I can't take it anymore. I sprint to him and launch myself at him, and he catches me before I can collide into him. I hold him the same way I held onto my creator and then my father the night before.

"I am so sorry, _Carissimi unam_." He whispers in my ear. "I am so, so very sorry. I will never betray you like that again." He promises. He repeatedly kisses my cheek.

"You better not." I growl back at him. "Or I'll smack you upside your baldy head!" He laughs at that.

My father, Bongani and Kofi come back just then, and Quinlan apologises to them too. Eventually they accept his apology too, though my father took a little more convincing, before he accepted it. All is right with the world now.

_**A/N:**_** I couldn't stand Freya and Quinlan falling out, so I had to let them make up. Thinking of having Freya meet Fet in the next chapter :D I've already most of that chapter written out; I wrote it before writing this chapter :D I'm not sure if it's finished yet though *strokes imaginary beard***

_**Translations:**_** Again I don't speak any language other than English. I use Google translate for Latin, and another website for Old Norse. I apologise if this is wrong.**

_**Bróðir - **_**Brother (Old Norse) **

_**Einnhverr tími -**_** Any time (Old Norse)**

_**Parva Soror**_** \- Little Sister (Latin)**

_**Dýrr Einn**_** \- Dear One (Old Norse)**

_**Carissimi Unam**_** \- Dear One (Latin)**


	5. Chapter 5

[Type the document title]

_**A/N:**_** Wow, I just realised that I started this story a year and four days ago :D I'm not sure if I like how this chapter has turned out. Like I said before: I don't really plan what I'll write in a chapter, I just start typing, and things like this happens...whether or not I actually like the chapter is another thing... Here's chapter 5...not that anyone's reading my stories of **_**The Strain**_** anymore.**

_**Chapter 5**_

For two days, Quinlan comes back to the nest, mostly to see me and spend some time with me, but he does give the Ancients a few passages from the _Occido Lumen._ Some of those include: "The Seven plagues, mortal only to the Face of God." and "Those who heard the silent voice of the Master fell dumbstruck." The Ancients have told Quinlan that the "silent voice of the Master" is a paralysing scream that They use when They want to incapacitate large amounts of people. Another one is: "When the Face of God shineth upon Him, His essence is destroyed." We actually know what will kill an Ancient, but They have forbade us from telling Quinlan. I _hate_ keeping secrets from my brother, especially as there's precious little about him that I don't know about. Only something as strong as a nuclear bomb will kill an Ancient...perhaps even a volcano. Quinlan wasn't here at all yesterday though.

There are even fewer in the nest now; we lost yet another team, this time consisting of Guillermo, Enrique, Samir, Ezra and Yusuf. I never thought I'd actually grieve over the death of the pompous little shitstain that was Ezra, and yet, here I am. The thought of grieving over him has actually made me laugh uncontrollably on and off over the past several hours, yet the rest of the nest know that this is my way of grieving him. I grieve for the other four more than him though.

Last night, the Old Ones became quite animated, more so than usual. When we asked why, They told us that the Young One has become formless, meaning that He doesn't have a body at the moment; someone removed Him from it, and I have a very strong idea as to whom. And that would explain why a certain hybrid wasn't here yesterday.

It's just come to an hour before sunset, and most of the remainder of the nest is outside on guard duty, while a small team consisting of my father, Bongani and Kofi are out hunting for the Ancients. Lar, Draven, Gabriel, Raphael and myself are in the Chamber of the Ancients, guarding the Old Ones, when familiar footsteps come down the corridor leading to the entrance to the compound, including a pair of vaguely familiar footsteps that has a metal contraption touching the concrete on every alternate step. I peek around the Ancient to my right (to the left of those coming down the corridor), and see who it is. I large grin almost splits my face open when I see my big brother marching down the corridor and I rush to greet him just as he gets to the end of the corridor. I run and jump into his arms, completely ignoring the human standing behind Quinlan, but I do hear the sound of metal scraping coming from that direction. My brother holds me tightly to him and I snuggle into his neck, while wrapping both my legs around his waist. He chuckles quietly into my ear before purring, and I purr loudly in response.

"Mr. Quinlan, you know this Strigoi?" An old familiar voice asks from in front of me, but behind Quinlan. I look up and see the old pawnbroker standing two feet away holding his ornate walking stick in one hand, and a sword in the other. It takes me a moment to remember that Professor Abraham Setrakian's sword is silver (I can smell the silver now that my nose is away from Quinlan's neck), and that his sword is normally hidden inside the shaft of his walking stick. Instinct makes me hiss at the silver blade in the Professor's hand, but the pawnbroker just looks at me unflinchingly.

"Yes, Professor." My brother says, turning around and facing the old man and gently depositing me onto my feet on the concrete floor, but keeps one arm around me, and I turn to look at the thieving pawnbroker. "Freya is my sister."

"Your _sister_?!" The old man's eyes widen in surprise and he actually takes a step backwards. I can't help but grin.

"Yes." Quinlan says. Then after a few heartbeats he speaks up again. "Not biologically, of course."

"Unfortunately." I mumble, pouting noticeably. Quinlan chuckles at my pout, then leans down and presses his cool lips to the top of my uncovered bald head, which makes me purr loudly again. I watch the Professor looking at us in a most curious manner, before Quinlan recovers and goes back to his facade of being cold hearted. I hate it when he does this, and I know he's only doing it because he wants to keep everyone at bay lest the Master take them away from him...again. The old man clears his throat quietly, but it's enough to get my brother's attention.

"Come, _Parva Soror_." He says to me, releasing me from his arm, but taking my hand instead. I hear the Professor put his blade away again. "I must talk to the Ancients." He leads the way through the Chamber of the Ancients until he and the Professor are standing in front of the Old Ones, while I break away and stand beside my creator. My brothers, who are behind the Old Ones in the dark, and the Ancients are growling quietly at the presence of our company, specifically at the pawnbroker. The noises stop when Quinlan steps forward.

"The Master is slain." He starts off to an almost completely quiet chamber. The only noise is coming from the Old Ones purring and twitching. "I've cut off his head. After centuries of pursuit, he is fallen." Lar has been elected to be the mouthpiece for the Ancients, so he takes a few steps forwards until he's standing a few feet in front of our older brother and the thieving pawnbroker.

"We felt it." He says, repeating the words of the Old Ones. "He was weakened. His guard was down. Briefly." Quinlan, who was looking at the floor for a moment, snaps his pale, ice blue eyes up to Lar's.

"Briefly? What do you mean?" Quinlan asks with a slight demanding tone.

"He is formless. That much we understand."

"What does that mean?" Quinlan's voice becomes a little bit more demanding, and I can hear some annoyance too.

"He has not yet taken another body." Lar states matter-of-factly. I watch as Quinlan's jaw tenses. I watch his relatively happy mood melt away like ice on a warm day. _Uh oh_. Quinlan's pale eyes narrow in annoyance. Before he can say anything, the old man pipes up.

"But he will?" The Old Ones growl at this, and snap Their heads in the Professor's direction. They're now fully awake. Good thing we fed Them not long ago. We normally feed Them after the sun goes down, but They were hungry before then. "Is that what's happening?" The Ancients are not only verbally growling, but They're also raising Their mental voices inside our heads. It's not as bad as when They were angry at Quinlan's disrespect a couple of weeks ago, but it's enough that my head is starting to twinge. It's almost as bad as the night when Quinlan stole the _Lumen_, over a week ago. I sense my other brothers' discomfort.

_**HOW **__**DARE**__** THIS HUMAN TALK TO US!**_ The Ancient I was standing next to, before Quinlan paid us a visit, says.

_**WHY SHOULD WE TELL YOU **__**ANYTHING**__**, OLD MAN?! **_The one on my left (Quinlan's right) asks.

_**WITH YOU, WE WILL SHARE **__**NOTHING**__**! WE WANT OUR BOOK! **_My creator says, which Lar repeats.

"With you, We will share _nothing_!" Lar growls out between his teeth. "We want Our book!" He may be standing completely still with his hands clasped in front of him, like a soldier, but Lar is actually in as much pain as we are. The old man doesn't seem fazed in the slightest.

"Yes. Lots of stealing books going around." He bravely takes a couple of steps forwards. My eyes widen in surprise of what he said.

_**Did someone steal the Silver Codex from him?**_ I ask the nest. The others go quiet, but the three Ancients growl loudly at my question.

_**THEY BETTER NOT HAVE LOST THAT BOOK! **_The Old Ones say in unison. I wince at Their volume and I rub my temples in circles with my fingers. I know They're not furious at me, but at the thought of the pawnbroker being careless enough that someone stole the _Occido Lumen_ from him.

_**My Lords? Is everything alright?**_ My father asks, his voice laced with worry. Clearly he and the twins have felt the Old Ones' fury from where they are...somewhere around the Manhattan Bridge area.

_**Someone stole the **_**Occido Lumen**_**, Vaun. **_Our creator tells him.

_**Quinlan and that pawnbroker, Professor Abraham Setrakian, stole the **_**Lumen**_**, my Lord. **_My father tries to be rational.

_**They are here, Vaun. And the human claims that someone stole the Silver Codex from him! **_The Ancient on my left says. I feel my father's shock through the telepathic bond, and the Ancients on either side of my creator start screaming in Enochian. I try not to whimper at the pain inside my head, but I feel warm blood trickling out of my ears and my nose again. I've always been more sensitive towards the Ancients' wrath; I'm not sure if it's because I'm technically female (by technically I mean I used to be one when I was human, now I'm sexless, just like every Strigoi). I try to discreetly wipe the blood away and look at my big brother after. Quinlan sees my actions, and I see the expression on his face melt to worry. Before he can say anything, the Professor continues.

"I saw something." He starts. We wait to see if he says more on the book, but he doesn't. "A red worm." Quinlan turns away from me, and looks at the old man at that. I continue wiping the blood from my nose and ears without my brother watching, and the Old Ones apologise to me for hurting me, and I wave off Their apology; I know They don't mean to hurt us. "Crimson. Not like the others." The Professor finishes. The entire nest goes quiet for a single heartbeat, then the Old Ones start making a half purr, half growling noise. Lar turns his face towards my creator, then turns back to our guests.

"If you did not kill the Crimson Worm." Lar starts off, and Quinlan looks at him again. "You did not slay the Master." Quinlan takes a large step forwards, and I can see the barely controlled anger in his entire posture.

"What _worm_ is this?!" He demands in a soft, yet angry voice.

"The essence of His being." Lar states matter-of-factly again. "He has not yet taken another host, but when He does, He will be just as powerful as before." I'm looking at the back of Lar's bare head, so I can't see his face, but I can hear a smile in his voice. I watch Quinlan now.

"A _Crimson Worm_." He states in a slow, quiet yet deadly tone. _Shit!_ Quinlan walks slowly around Lar, and rubs his forehead with his right hand as he steps around the covered drain in the middle of the blood covered floor. Lar turns to watch him, hands now at his sides, preparing to go for his guns.

"You...You might have _told_ me." Quinlan starts. Lar reaches for his left handgun but continues just watching our brother, who has walked around the drain and is feet away from my creator and myself. "You might have...you might have tried to _help_ me!" With that, Quinlan's right hand moves away from his face, and reaches back to unsheathe his longsword from his back in a very quick movement. Lar has already turned around and pulled his left handgun free of its holster before Quinlan has managed to pull his sword completely from its harness. As soon as the sword is free, he points it straight at my creator, and Lar points his gun at Quinlan's back, and Gabriel, Raphael and Draven have come out of the shadows to point their shotguns at his front. I haven't moved, except to jump. All three Ancients have now moved forwards on Their pedestals, Their arms are out at Their sides and They're baring Their claw-like fingernails while growling menacingly at my brother.

"HOW ABOUT I CUT OFF _YOUR_ _**USELESS HEADS,**_ AND EXPOSE THE ESSENCE OF _YOUR_ BEING?!" Quinlan yells, not backing away from my creator, nor is he paying my brothers any mind. I see the Professor making to pull his sword from his walking stick again.

"Quinlan!" I say to him, putting myself in between him and my creator. "Brother, please! _Don't!_" He ignores me, but continues to threaten my creator, who keeps leaning forwards on Its pedestal; head not far above my own. Eventually, Quinlan looks to the sides and sees the guns pointed at him. Then he lowers both his arm with his sword, and his gaze. Lar lowers his handgun, but my other three brothers keep their shotguns pointed at Quinlan, who looks behind him at Lar.

"I risk _everything_." He starts in a more quieter tone, yet still angry. "And you three..._husks_ just sit here, awaiting the end of Your days." He looks around at the other two Ancients as he speaks. My creator sits back and crosses Its arms in front of It again, and the other two follow suit. I keep standing in front of my creator though and Quinlan turns to face us. He spreads his arms out to his sides, sword still in his hand, while keeping eye contact with my creator; ignoring me for now. "Take a..._good_, long look at me. You will _never_ see me again!" With that he drops his arms to his sides, turns on his heel and walks towards the Professor, resheathing his sword as he goes. Everyone lowers their shotguns and watches him, only for them to quickly raise them again when Quinlan whirls back on his heel and marches back towards my creator. He doesn't look at the Ancient though, he looks straight into my eyes. He stops in front of me, leans down, grabs onto me tightly on the backs of my thighs, just under my backside, and pulls me up into his arms. I automatically lock my arms around his neck, and lock my legs around his waist. Only then does he look back at my creator. "But I'm taking _my sister_ with me!" He snarls. Our brothers aren't happy about that, and they start to move forwards, no doubt they want to remove me from him. Quinlan snarls at them even more and holds me tighter.

_**NO!**_ My creator says to the others, sternly. _**Let him take Freya.**_

_**Excuse me, my Lord?!**_ Gabriel asks in astonishment.

_**Let Quintus take Freya. **_My creator repeats, but doesn't say any more than that. Our brothers lower their guns, and Quinlan turns around again, and marches past the Professor and down the corridor. I snuggle against Quinlan's shoulder and watch as the old man hurries behind us. He keeps me in his arms the whole way through the corridor, up the slight incline leading to the elevator, the whole elevator ride and along the other corridor leading to the exit and through multiple twists and turns. Quinlan only stops just before we get to the door leading outside. It's still daylight outside...though barely.

"Put your hood up, and cover your face, _Parva Soror_." He says to me in a softer tone. There's still a bit of anger there, but I know he's not angry at me. I let go of my brother's neck just long enough to put my hood up, then I put his up for him. "Professor? Would you be so kind as to get my sunglasses and give them to Freya? They're in the right pocket of my coat." The Professor does as Quinlan asks and I put them over his eyes. He thanks us both, before I bury my face against his neck, thankful that my hood can keep me covered and the neck of my light proof military jacket is zipped all the way up. My sunglasses and the black material I use to cover my face is in my vest pocket, and I highly doubt Quinlan will put me down to get them. The Professor then opens the door, and we go through it.

I know our other brothers outside want to stop him from taking me, but I hear them back off when my creator tells them to let us past. I hear the gate opening a couple of minutes later and Quinlan turns right once he walks through it. He walks in a straight line in silence for about five minutes before I feel him turn to the left and I hear a vehicle door slide open. It sounds like a van. Quinlan ducks us both down before climbing inside, and sliding the door shut again. He takes a seat and keeps me on his lap. It's a little awkward straddling my brother when there's the side of a vehicle in the way of my legs.

"Who do ya have there, Born-o?" An unfamiliar male voice asks from the front. I try to pull my face away from my brother's neck to have a look, but his hand moves up to cup the back of my head, and holds it in place. I hear, and feel, him grumble quietly.

"My sister." Is the only reply the other man gets. The door in the front passenger side opens and I hear the Professor puff his way into the vehicle before he slams the door closed.

"Wait, you have a _sister_?!" The voice asks. I detect two distinct accents in the man's voice: A Brooklyn accent, broken by either a Russian or a Ukrainian accent. Interesting.

"Yes, I do." My brother says curtly. "And if you mistreat her in any way, shape, or form Mr. Fet, I will slowly peel the skin from your bones." That last part is said with a slight growl. I suddenly remember Quinlan telling me that there was a rat catcher called Mr. Fet.

"Damn!" Mr. Fet says, turning the key in the ignition. The engine rumbles to life and it sounds like we're in some kind of military vehicle. This just gets more and more interesting. "Someone got up on the wrong side of the coffin this morning." Mr. Fet continues with a slight giggle, pulling away from the curb.

"Was that a vampire joke?" I ask Quinlan, my voice slightly muffled by his neck.

"I believe so." Quinlan says, not loosening his grip on me, especially my head. "Just ignore him, _Parva Soror_, I do all the time." I quietly giggle into my brother's neck. I tighten my grip on him, and snuggle further into his neck, causing him to purr, and I fall asleep to the gentle rocking of the military vehicle, and my big brother purring in my ear.

)*( )*( )*( )*( )*(

I wake up when the military vehicle stops and Quinlan gets up, with me still in his arms, to exit it. He keeps his hand on the back of my head so I don't see where we're going. A door opens several feet in front of us, which Quinlan hurries through. His footsteps change as he walks on carpet now; it's thick and he barely makes a sound. After walking through a corridor and turning a few corners, I hear a button being pressed and hear the telltale noise of an elevator being lowered, and hear the doors opening. Quinlan and the other two men step into the elevator, and I feel myself being gently swung around in Quinlan's arms, to face the elevator doors. We travel up a few floors, and Quinlan gets out as soon as the doors open and he goes down another corridor. He continues holding me in his arms for another five minutes, before he gently sets me on my feet in a large circular room. I see beige and gold all over the place, which looks familiar, and I finally get to see the speaker of the driver standing behind Quinlan.

He's taller than my brother, by about three or four inches. He has jet black hair and facial hair that's around his mouth and chin, and up to his nose, but his cheeks and sides of his jaw are bare, and he has pale blue eyes, though nowhere near as pale as Quinlan's. He's muscular, just like Quinlan, only he's a little more thinner, which may have to do with his height. He wears a black military sweater, which is open in a V shape at the neck, tight black jeans held up with a black leather belt and dusty black boots. He's also wearing what looks to be a badge around his neck, similar to what a Police Officer would wear, but I know this one's for rat catchers. Curious that he's still wearing it.

"I can't believe you brought a _muncher_ here." He says to my brother, who turns to look at the taller man with an angry expression. I hear my brother snarling at the other man. He takes a small step to his left so that he's shielding me from the human.

"Excuse me?" I say. The other man looks at me with wide eyes. Clearly he wasn't expecting me to talk. "But what the hell's a _muncher_?"

"It's what this..._human_ calls rats...and Strigoi." Quinlan says to me, not taking his eyes from the other man. My eyes widen at that.

"Did he just call me _vermin_?!" I demand, not holding back a growl. I know my brother has a small wicked smile on his face at my tone. I hear the entire nest, including the Ancients, growling at Mr. Fet calling me vermin.

"Yes, he did." Quinlan says, finally turning to me and I get to see that wicked little smile of his. It's generally not a good thing when he has that on his face. I look back at the taller human standing beside the old human, and hiss at him loudly. I watch in satisfaction as the man jumps slightly and I hear his heartbeat accelerate. I can also smell a small tang of fear in the air. I see the human reaching for something long and thin; when he pulls it out, I can see it's a two foot long piece of rebar. A loud, menacing snarl comes from Quinlan once he's noticed what the human has in his hands, having heard the scrape of metal.

"That's enough, Mr. Fet." The old pawnbroker speaks up. "Miss Freya is our guest." I watch as the tall man's thick, jet black eyebrows shoot up and his pale eyes widen.

"You can't be _serious_, Professor!" The other man says, rounding on his companion, who just casually walks further into the room. He removes his hat and coat before sitting down at a desk at the back of the room, he sets his ornate sword-cane against the wall behind him.

"I'm completely serious, Mr. Fet." The Professor finally answers, looking up at the younger man, who walks around my brother and me and stops in front of the table.

"What the _fuck_, Professor?!" The other man starts. "I mean, first you decide to split rent and utilities with a muncher on fucking _steroids_!" He gestures to Quinlan as he says this. "And now you're splitting it with _a full fucking muncher_?! What the _shit_?!" The pawnbroker doesn't have time to reply, because at that moment, my brother rushes towards the taller man in a blur, grabs him by the throat and hoists him up into the air one handed, with the human's feet dangling about six or seven inches from the carpeted floor. His fingers squeeze on Mr. Fet's throat and I watch as his face goes from red to purple rapidly. The rebar falls to the floor with a muffled _clang_, and I also hear the entire nest snarling now at what the human has said about me. And I hear the Ancients muttering Their approval at Quinlan's actions; it seems They've forgiven Quinlan of his earlier transgressions. Good thing They're not here, otherwise this stupid human would have met a very painful demise.

"This is the second and final time I am going to say this to you, you _fucking_ rat catcher." Quinlan starts in a voice that's little more than a growl. Clearly he's found someone to take his earlier fury out on. "You stay the _fuck_ away from my little sister! Do you understand me, _Matris Futuor_?!" Unfortunately, Mr. Fet can't do much, because Quinlan is squeezing his throat too hard.

"_Hann mega't andla, stórr bróðir_." I say to him. He continues to hold the rat catcher in the air for another two heart beats, then he finally lowers the man to the floor and loosens his grip on the other's throat, but doesn't remove his fingers just yet.

"Do you understand me?" Quinlan repeats. The other man nods his head and wheezes out a 'yes', so my brother lets him go. The taller man coughs and splutters for a minute or two and massages his neck.

_"__Брудні ебані напівродини!__" (__Brudni ebani napivrodyny! {__Filthy____fucking half-breed!}__)_Mr. Fet finally manages to cough out, causing Quinlan to snarl at him. Ah, the human is Ukrainian.

"Do not ever call me a half-breed again, _human_!" My brother growls at him.

"_Ебані цифри, ви можете мене зрозуміти!__" (Ebani tsyfry, vy mozhete mene zrozumity! _**{**_Fucking figures you can understand me!}) _Mr. Fet says, still massaging his throat.

"Uh, I also understood you, Mr. Fet." I speak up, raising my index finger like a teacher asked a question and I knew the answer to it. I've moved further into the room now, and I'm currently standing in front of the large desk the Professor is sitting behind. "And, for the record, my brother hates being called 'half-breed'." The Rat Catcher tries to start something else, but the old man speaks up.

"Please leave us, Mr. Fet." The taller man's eyes widen at this and tries to protest, but the Professor raises his hand, and the other man closes his mouth. I can see large marks on Mr. Fet's throat now, in the exact shape of Quinlan's fingers. "Go. Now." The Rat Catcher reluctantly leaves the room, muttering under his breath in Ukrainian about 'stupid vampires', and 'fucking half-breeds'. Before he can exit the room completely, I feel the Old Ones gently tugging on my mind. They want to speak to the human, so I call him back.

"Mr. Fet? One thing before you go." I say, watching as the tall human stops in the doorway, but doesn't turn around. His head does turn slightly to the side to indicate he's listening. "You need to turn around first." I hear him sigh loudly, but he turns around, and I mentally step to the side to let the Old Ones take over. I watch as Mr. Fet's eyes widen when he sees mine glowing bright red.

_**"If you ever say, or do anything, to harm Our Freya again, Mr. Fet." **_The Old Ones speak through me in Their multilayered voices. _**"We shall make sure the Born brings you to Us...after he is through with you, of course! And you will rue the day your mother gave birth to you! Do you understand, **__**human**__**?!"**_ The fear that I smelled earlier is nothing compared to the terror that I can smell from him now. He looks ready to pass out; his face has gone at least three shades paler, with a slight pasty sheen, and his legs are shaking, but he manages to stay on his feet. He says nothing, but nods his head vigorously. _**"Good! Now, leave!"**_ With that, the poor man turns around and runs out of the room, and I feel the Old Ones recede from my mind. I turn to look at Quinlan, who's own eyes are wide with shock, yet he's wearing a large grin on his face.

"I would say sorry, but I'm really not." I say in my normal double layered voice, and Quinlan barks out a laugh loudly at that.

"Good." He says, still with an amused grin on his face. "Don't be _Parvulus_." I can't help but grin back at him. Getting a good look at the large circular room now, I realise why it looks familiar: just before Quinlan came back to the nest, my father, Lar, Bongani, Kofi and I cleared out a building on West 54th Street called The Olympian Club. The Club is large, and decorated in beige and gold colours. The Professor and Quinlan exchange a few words to each other about Mr. Fet, and I take this opportunity to hunt for a specific object.

Trying to be inconspicuous, I look around the Professor's desk to see if I can spot the _Occido Lumen,_ but I don't see anything big enough, or old enough, to be the ancient tome, nor do I see any book with a silver cover. _**DAMMIT!**_ I do, however, spot a piece of stationary with the words "The Olympian Club" written in gold cursive at the top. I don't let either man in the room know that I know where I am; I feel my creator peer through my eyes, but not take me over...and now the Old Ones know where I am too.

We spend around three hours in that big room, Quinlan got me a copy of _Dracula_, which I've been reading the whole time and Quinlan's been reading _The_ _Divine Comedy_ by Dante Alighieri, before the Professor announces that he's going to bed. Once he leaves the room, I put my book down and pounce on my brother.

_"Hvere er silverinn bók?" (Where is the silver book?)_ I demand. I decide to communicate in my mother tongue just in case the old man is still within earshot. Quinlan's pale, ice blue eyes widen at my demand. He says nothing for a few moments.

_"Þat's inn safer." (It's in a safe)_He replies in the same language.

_"Hví?" (Why?) _I demand. He decides then to switch languages, to his mother tongue this time.

_"Obstabat quo minus rapere illud." (To stop me from stealing it again) _It's my turn to have wide eyes at this. I answer him in Latin.

_"Iterum? Quid vis iterum?" (Again? What do you mean, again?) _Again? Huh?

_"Id furatus sum liber duas noctes ago, magister elicere consurgetis de insidiis, ut eum possit occidere." (I stole the book two nights ago, to lure the Master out of hiding, so I could kill him.) _This time, I growl at his reply. The Ancients are absolutely furious too.

_"__TU ES TRISTIS DE MENTE TUA__?!"_ _(ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!)_ I yell at him. He growls at my raised voice, but I ignore him. _"QUID SI ET OBTINUISSET PRINCIPATUM LIBER PRO?! UMQUAM COGITAT DE EO?! __VEL ETIAM NE ALIQUA COGITATIONE?!" (WHAT IF HE HAD GOTTEN THE BOOK INSTEAD?! DID YOU EVER THINK ABOUT THAT?! OR WERE YOU EVEN THINKING AT ALL?!)_

_"CAVE NE ULTRA LOQUARIS AD ME, ADULESCENTULA!" __(DO NOT YELL AT ME, LITTLE GIRL!)_He yells back at me. 'Little girl'? I honestly cannot remember when he ever called me 'little girl'. I don't think he has. Needless to say, he's shocked me.

_"Si quis furatus sit faceres_?" _(And what would you have done if He had stolen it?) _I try talking in a calmer voice, yet I hear it trembling slightly. Not my intention. Quinlan's expression softens at the tremble in my voice.

_"EGO nanquam have ut faciat ea." (I would never have let Him take it)_ He says, coming over to me and pulling me onto his lap. I put my arms around his neck and cuddle him tightly.

"But what if He _did_?" I switch to English. He tightens his grip on me too, and kisses me on the side of the neck, which makes me purr.

"Then I would have gotten it back." He assures me, purring loudly too and nuzzles the side of my neck. We sit in silence for a few minutes. The last time we fought, Quinlan left the nest for almost fifty years...the other night didn't count, because it wasn't actually a fight. Even though he's since assured me that him leaving wasn't because of me, I still firmly believe that it _was_ my fault, so I try to stop him from leaving me again.

"I'm sorry, brother." I say, kissing him on the neck too. "I didn't mean to yell at you." His grip tightens even more at my apology.

"I am sorry too, _Parum soror mea_." He apologises back. At least he's not calling me 'little girl' anymore. We stay like this for quite a while before I go back to reading _Dracula_, still sitting on Quinlan's lap, and my brother goes back to reading _The_ _Divine Comedy. _Strangely enough, this is actually Quinlan's favourite book. It's about one in the morning by the time we both decide not to read anymore...well, I finished rereading _Dracula_, but he's still rereading _The Divine Comedy_. I'm thirsty and tired; I haven't fed since yesterday at sunset, and I've been awake since ten this morning...that nap in the military vehicle didn't count.

"I'm exhausted." I comment to Quinlan, who puts a piece of stationary into his book before closing it, and looks at me. My eyelids actually droop, and it's taking my inner eyelids to open even longer than normal. I even open my mouth to yawn, even though I don't breathe. "I also need to feed." I unzipped my military jacket earlier, down to my combat vest, and Quinlan looks at my throat, which I know has gotten paler since yesterday.

"I have blood in a miniature refrigerator in my room. And I'm quite tired myself...even though I was unconscious for around twelve hours." He remarks, before giving his book to me to hold, then putting his arms around my waist, picking me up and walking to the elevator. He presses a button, and we go up a few floors, then down another corridor before he opens the door to his room. He sets me down on the edge of his bed, before he walks to the door and closes it then locks it. Then he walks to the tiny, black refrigerator at the opposite wall below the window with its drawn curtains, and takes out two pints of donated blood. He also has a microwave. There's also a second door on the far side of the room, possibly leading to a bathroom.

I look around his room while he heats the blood up. The room is sparsely furnished, unsurprisingly, and it's got the same gold and beige colouring as the Olympian Room. If I remember correctly, the entire building is more or less decorated in beige and gold, except for the hallways. The hallways are surprisingly dark; a medium brown wallpaper with a fancy design adorn the walls, but with pale yellow coloured doors which the simple design on the doors are painted with burnished gold. I remember seeing small, semi circled tables every few feet down the hallways, each with a foot tall bust of a different Greek God, though Zeus is the most popular bust on the tables. Behind each bust, is a silver backed mirror. I know they're silver backed, because my reflection vibrated in the glass; contrary to popular belief, Strigoi _do_, in fact, have a reflection. Strigoi reflections vibrate on silver backed mirrors, but not mirrors backed with nickel, or chromium, or tin, or aluminium...or whatever else humans back mirrors with. I see a small mirror on the wall at the end of the bed, which my reflection can clearly be seen...only, my reflection is as still as I am, so it's not backed with silver. Huh, must be only the ones in the hallways that are silver backed.

Quinlan's large room is definitely on the Spartan side; he has a bed, a bedside cabinet, a closet, a small table, which rests the mini fridge and microwave, a larger table with a couple of chairs, a chest of drawers and one armchair. There's a beige, faux fur rug on the cream carpeted floor about two feet from the bottom of his bed, and I know his closet and chest of drawers holds some clothes (all the same black, wax denim pants, purple or blue undershirt, black vest and black hoodie, and he most likely will have at least one, maybe two, pairs of black, leather boots with silver spikes on the back, plus an extra belt or two), plus his extra guns and extra ammunition. The only two other things that Quinlan has in his room, are a small stack of six books: _The Devine Comedy_ by Dante Alighieri {which I put on top}, _The Iliad And The Odyssey_ by Homer, _Meditations_ by Marcus Aurelius, _Epistulae Morales Ad Lucilium_ {also known as _Moral Epistles_ and _Letters From A Stoic_} by Lucius Annaeus Seneca, _The Republic_ by Plato and _Mythology: Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes _by Edith Hamilton, and a chess board all on the bedside cabinet; the books are on the top beside a small, golden lamp, and the chess board is on the shelf below. I have no idea what's in the cupboard part of the bedside cabinet...if Quinlan even uses it.

The microwave beeps as soon as I've taken a good look around the room, and I turn back around in time to see Quinlan popping the door open, removing the now warm blood, and brings it over to me, before going back to the microwave and putting his own pouch of blood into the microwave. I lift the pouch up to my mouth, and my stinger pierces the bottom, and I gratefully drink the body temperature warm blood. I finish it five seconds before the microwave beeps a second time, and watch Quinlan drink his own pouch of blood. Afterwards, he starts to remove his clothes, while I do the same, then we crawl into his comfortable bed, and we fall asleep in each other's arms.

_**A/N:**_** So, Freya has now met Fet, YAY! :D I just want to point out that I love Fet, but I wanted him to be a bit of an asshole when it came to Freya staying with him, Quinlan and the Professor at first. Let's face it, Fet hates Quinlan in season 3, so it makes sense that he's a bit of a dick to Freya during this time too. **

**I had to see what books Quinlan would read, and I think he'd read the ones I mentioned above. I haven't read any of his books, but would like to read **_**The Divine Comedy**_** and **_**Mythology: Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes. **_**I haven't read **_**Dracula**_** either, but I have it. Once I'm done reading Guillermo Del Toro and Chuck Hogan's new book, **_**The Hollow Ones**_**, then I'll read **_**Dracula. **_**I've to finish reading my **_**Southern Vampire Mysteries/Sookie Stackhouse/True Blood **_**books first, before starting **_**The Hollow Ones**_**. I'm about halfway through the twelfth **_**Southern Vampire Mysteries**_** book, **_**Deadlocked**_**, then have to read **_**Dead Ever After**_** and I'm done :D I'm not sure if there's a fourteenth book though.**

_**Translations:-**_** Again, I only speak English, so had to use Google Translate and another website for the Ukrainian, Latin and Old Norse, so I have no idea if the translations are correct or not. Apologies if they're wrong.**

_**Parva Soror - **_**Little sister. (Latin)**

_**Matris Futuor - **_**Motherfucker (Latin)**

_**Hann mega't andla, stórr bróðir - **_**He can't breathe, big brother (Old Norse)**

_**Parvulus - **_**Little One (Latin)**

_**Parum soror mea - **_**My little sister (Latin)**

11


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